I just came back from a concert. Where someone committed suicide. He leapt from the building that serves as the backdrop to the stage, landing just feet away from the lead of The Swell Season.
I thought i should spend time thinking about this before posting. Before writing. But this post is about my reactions, my thoughts, what I saw. It’s about the here and right now (which is about 2 hours after the actual suicide, as we were instructed to stay in the venue for a while to let the ambulance through, then got stuck in parking lot traffic, then got a flat tire).
I found myself laughing and singing along with Glen Hansard as he made fun of one of his bandmates just when a quick flutter of darkness slammed into the stage.
I listened to the gasp, then the slight screams. I could almost feel the sense of general terrified confusion.
I watched people crying, hugged by their significant others. I watched others just sit and smoke. I watched yet others chit chat on the side. I listened to an usher gather random theories from people that weren’t any closer to the stage than I was (and I wasn’t close) and turn them into “the facts as she knew them.”
I watched them do CPR on a man that just fell about 40 feet down and at least 20 feet out (meaning it was a jump, not a fall). I knew that he was nearly if not definitely dead. I saw the body seconds after they had stopped and pulled a blanket over.
I noticed that I didn’t really feel anything in particular.
I don’t know.