Why did I find a sad story as my muse to write? I wonder..I wanted to write when I was angry about my work just what had happened last week but still I couldn't force myself to write about it. Maybe my hatred toward that woman-wannabe person is too, too much I'm afraid writing about 'it' might dirty up my blog post. So that's probably why I couldn't write about him/her..I don't know...Who cares.
But today is different. I have learned that a good friend of mine has just lost her father today. Not too long ago she contacted me again after a year since I left the Firm. I knew something was wrong and true enough she broke up with her boyfriend of 2-3 years (perhaps). Lost him to someone whom she called a friend (go figures). So goes the story of what had happened that leads to the break up. She seemed happy then when she realize that we all still love her no matter what happens. When I heard about her lost, I symphatized her. The fact that she had to go through all the pain although it might differ to what she had felt when she broke up with her boyfriend. I maybe nearly lost a brother but she lost her father. And nothing could bring her father back. So I offered her my condolences and she can turn to me if she wanted someone to talk to anytime she feels like it.
Then another sad story about the body of a missing wife were found in a unlikely place in a foreign country also makes me feel a little bit down this evening. Reading about what had happened to the deceased I did not want to try imagine it how she had felt at that time. Must be painful even for the deceased family. How can people be so cruel. Not to mention about a 6 months old child being thrown away into the dustbin by her own father just out of spite of his wife. How could he?
But then again talk about other people's problem, ours are just the same isn't it?
