Friday Night

This last Friday night, I had an epiphany. I discovered that I've been desensitized...numbed to the casual waste of lives around me. Its quite scary to even admit that. At the same time, its just a result of living in a warzone. After a while, the gunshots just fade into the backdrop, and life goes on.
My awakening occurred this past Friday night. I was rolling with my girlfriend from Taco Bell of all places. She had the idea to go check out "Black New World" a club near my house in the lower bottoms of west Oakland. Cool. Its something that we always do since its so close, and its generally a chill vibe there. As I made a left on to Pine street, I was immediately shocked at the sight of a man laying on his back near the next intersection. Something about it sent a feeling of dread through me, and I wanted to turn the car around and go home. Instead, we drove up to the figure, and found a man with gunshot wounds in his stomach, struggling to stay alive.
It must have just happened, because one of the neighbors from nearby was already calling the police as people slowly streamed out of their homes. I couldn't believe that we had haphazardly discovered this grisly scene. We parked the car and joined the growing cluster surrounding the man, encouraging him to live. As I looked at his wounds and his breathing pattern, it became apparent to me that he would not survive. One girl starting crying as her spouse implored her to do CPR to save the man. People prayed and counseled over his body, trying to give whatever help they could. Yet, it didn't seem that anyone actually knew this man.
As the police arrived, the small circle surrounding him dispersed. Seconds later, the fire department rolled up with a stretcher. Yet, as they inspected the poor man's body, they found him lifeless. My girlfriend shed a tear. I sat dispassionate, disgusted by what I've become accustomed to, and to some degree accepted in my life.
Violence surrounds us at every turn. On the television, in movies, videogames, and music. So rampant, and easily digested, that we barely recognize its hideous head. Well, last Friday night, I witnessed the ugly face of gun violence. Its less entertaining in person, it cuts deep, and snatches away dreams. I can't accept violence in my community as a side effect of the hood. It is my duty to get angry enough that I'm inspired to fight against it. Otherwise, I'm the silent majority, accepting the crude legislation of socioeconomic hardship.