Tuesday night and I just sat down to write a blog post when I got sidetracked. Sidetracked by a TV show about the horror going on this weekend, aiming at finding answers. I was determined to 'just' write a blog post, without elaborating on the Paris attacks, also because I thought Lies basically articulated my opinion and feelings about it. But as I find myself getting sidetracked and distracted a lot these past days, it shouldn't come as a surprise that my resolution to blabber on about an outfit was destined to fail. After deleting nonsense sentence after sentence, I got to this point which is a weird and off combination of an outfit and being saddened to such a deep level for all of the victims and their families and friends.
I know similar attacks have happened and will happen again in other parts of the world that the Western media seem to overlook. It's not at all that that's not important, it's just that this attack hits so close to home. Not only in the literal sense as Paris really is just a car drive away, but also because it is so identifiable. I am those victims, my friends are those victims: We are the people that go out on a Friday night, grabbing a bit, going to a concert, having fun. It's less identifiable when the victims are at a local market in a foreign country we can't begin to image, but by all means, it's just as sad. It's a clear sign that we as a people, as the human race, need to better. And it's about time too.