Tragedy Distracts | Teen Ink

Tragedy Distracts

October 21, 2014
By hannahhw BRONZE, Monroe, Michigan
hannahhw BRONZE, Monroe, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

To the diseases and illnesses of the world,

“Cancer.” I look down to hide the tears threatening to overflow, and the only entities my eyes can find to distract myself are my shoes. The years of memories that they hold can take me somewhere else in an instant, and remove me from the situation at hand. Looking down when I’m upset or about to cry is a natural and fluid movement, but allowing my shoes to drag me into a happier place is a learned and now constant habit when I’m upset. Looking down at the soft black and white polka dot wedges on my feet at this moment transports me to a time of distress, sadness, and anger.

The shouts and sentiments of thousands of happy people suddenly couldn’t seem more out of place. Every aspect of this oversized, floating, obnoxiously white disaster seemed fake, right down to the salty smell of the Caribbean air. When someone is upset, they don’t want to see the huge happy smiles or the bright sunny weather that permeated every overcrowded, coconut smelling hallway, jampacked dining room, or stuffed saltwater pool. All that person wants is the familiarity and routine of home, yet here I stood, not even in my home country, missing a life I had been so excited to travel away from for a week. The clear, turquoise water parted for this majestic ship. The magnificent and endless sky free of clouds magnified every happy sound. A strong sense of perfection was projected into every aspect of the Adventure of the Seas. Walking from one end to the other only showed a utopia. People were paid to stand around and smile, rooms were cleaned to the point of being ridiculous, and the overly exclusive attitudes of the spa, the gym, and the nightclub were so apparent that you could pull them out of the air. Suddenly, it became blatantly clear that everything around me was an advertisement. Alluring offers of free prizes or coupons pulled gullible women into hour long promotions. ‘Guaranteed’ money attracted the elderly into expensive casinos (or bingo sessions). Even the most simplistic poster or saying had an underlying motive, and it made me sick to my stomach. One word had changed my entire perspective.

It isn’t a choice of whether or not to wear shoes on any given day, but they offer much more than they initially seem to. Shoes protect you. And when they’ve been worn enough, they serve as memories to where they have walked.

Whenever I lace up my brown combat boots, I think of my grandmother. Most of my shoes remind me of her. A single step in these shoes will conjure the scent of Tomato’s breadsticks (our traditional restaurant) or the sound of dancing Polish music on her car stereo. These memories always bring warmth to my heart. I’m glad that by simply looking down, countless days and images of shopping with my grandmother can burst into my mind.

Another pair of shoes that bring me back to an upsetting memory are the tan flip flops that I paraded around in across this sailing monstrosity.

The shouts and screams of those only thinking happy thoughts were present throughout the entire span of the boat. How could you be upset when your only agenda is to eat great food, meet new people, and go places you’ve never been to so that you can try new things? From the old women who wouldn’t leave the slot machines – even to take a bathroom break – to the honeymooning couple that won’t take their hands off of each other until security threatens them, content and happy people packed every nook and cranny of space. It seemed that they especially loved to inhabit the places I needed to traverse. Even the young children who were the hardest to please giggled in satisfaction as the sticky, pepto bismol colored strawberry soft serve dripped onto their freshly tanned bodies. Groups of teenagers giggled in cliques as the sunbathed, scoffing at those who walked by. The other teenagers hooked up in remote areas with people they had known for a few days at most. The aura was of freedom, happiness, and risk taking. These masses were in no mood to stray from this normal.

Sometimes everyday memories are the ones that make me the happiest. If a person says something rude at school and I find myself upset, looking down at the beige, lacy oxfords tied onto my feet can bring me back up. A little grey mark on the toe reminds me of dancing in choir with a klutzy friend who would constantly make me laugh by stepping on my toes. Remembering wearing them on dates when I was just starting to feel new things for someone amazing can instantly bring a smile to my face. These seemingly common memories are so easy to bring about, yet can make so much of a difference to me.

A reminder of how much I’ve grown in the past few years can be the final ingredient to making me happy. Thankfully, shoes can do this as well. When I look down to see a pair of worn out Sperrys resting on my feet, I can be taken back to the end of middle school. I’ve giggled thinking about the amount of conformity I had achieved with this pair of shoes, and when I think of the memories I have with an old best friend, I find myself much happier than I was a few seconds prior. Thinking about old parties, learning to longboard, and (strangely enough) making cake can all pop into my head and make me an optimist once again.

Although I walk out of the door everyday in shoes because my feet would be dirty and filled with pain if I didn’t, there is an underlying meaning. Every step I take and action that I carry out is pressed into the sole of those shoes. And because I have made submissively looking down a habit when I am upset, wearing shoes and thinking of these memories is something essential to me bringing my head back up with a smile.To the diseases and illnesses of the world,

“Cancer.” I look down to hide the tears threatening to overflow, and the only entities my eyes can find to distract myself are my shoes. The years of memories that they hold can take me somewhere else in an instant, and remove me from the situation at hand. Looking down when I’m upset or about to cry is a natural and fluid movement, but allowing my shoes to drag me into a happier place is a learned and now constant habit when I’m upset. Looking down at the soft black and white polka dot wedges on my feet at this moment transports me to a time of distress, sadness, and anger.

The shouts and sentiments of thousands of happy people suddenly couldn’t seem more out of place. Every aspect of this oversized, floating, obnoxiously white disaster seemed fake, right down to the salty smell of the Caribbean air. When someone is upset, they don’t want to see the huge happy smiles or the bright sunny weather that permeated every overcrowded, coconut smelling hallway, jampacked dining room, or stuffed saltwater pool. All that person wants is the familiarity and routine of home, yet here I stood, not even in my home country, missing a life I had been so excited to travel away from for a week. The clear, turquoise water parted for this majestic ship. The magnificent and endless sky free of clouds magnified every happy sound. A strong sense of perfection was projected into every aspect of the Adventure of the Seas. Walking from one end to the other only showed a utopia. People were paid to stand around and smile, rooms were cleaned to the point of being ridiculous, and the overly exclusive attitudes of the spa, the gym, and the nightclub were so apparent that you could pull them out of the air. Suddenly, it became blatantly clear that everything around me was an advertisement. Alluring offers of free prizes or coupons pulled gullible women into hour long promotions. ‘Guaranteed’ money attracted the elderly into expensive casinos (or bingo sessions). Even the most simplistic poster or saying had an underlying motive, and it made me sick to my stomach. One word had changed my entire perspective.

It isn’t a choice of whether or not to wear shoes on any given day, but they offer much more than they initially seem to. Shoes protect you. And when they’ve been worn enough, they serve as memories to where they have walked.

Whenever I lace up my brown combat boots, I think of my grandmother. Most of my shoes remind me of her. A single step in these shoes will conjure the scent of Tomato’s breadsticks (our traditional restaurant) or the sound of dancing Polish music on her car stereo. These memories always bring warmth to my heart. I’m glad that by simply looking down, countless days and images of shopping with my grandmother can burst into my mind.

Another pair of shoes that bring me back to an upsetting memory are the tan flip flops that I paraded around in across this sailing monstrosity.

The shouts and screams of those only thinking happy thoughts were present throughout the entire span of the boat. How could you be upset when your only agenda is to eat great food, meet new people, and go places you’ve never been to so that you can try new things? From the old women who wouldn’t leave the slot machines – even to take a bathroom break – to the honeymooning couple that won’t take their hands off of each other until security threatens them, content and happy people packed every nook and cranny of space. It seemed that they especially loved to inhabit the places I needed to traverse. Even the young children who were the hardest to please giggled in satisfaction as the sticky, pepto bismol colored strawberry soft serve dripped onto their freshly tanned bodies. Groups of teenagers giggled in cliques as the sunbathed, scoffing at those who walked by. The other teenagers hooked up in remote areas with people they had known for a few days at most. The aura was of freedom, happiness, and risk taking. These masses were in no mood to stray from this normal.

Sometimes everyday memories are the ones that make me the happiest. If a person says something rude at school and I find myself upset, looking down at the beige, lacy oxfords tied onto my feet can bring me back up. A little grey mark on the toe reminds me of dancing in choir with a klutzy friend who would constantly make me laugh by stepping on my toes. Remembering wearing them on dates when I was just starting to feel new things for someone amazing can instantly bring a smile to my face. These seemingly common memories are so easy to bring about, yet can make so much of a difference to me.

A reminder of how much I’ve grown in the past few years can be the final ingredient to making me happy. Thankfully, shoes can do this as well. When I look down to see a pair of worn out Sperrys resting on my feet, I can be taken back to the end of middle school. I’ve giggled thinking about the amount of conformity I had achieved with this pair of shoes, and when I think of the memories I have with an old best friend, I find myself much happier than I was a few seconds prior. Thinking about old parties, learning to longboard, and (strangely enough) making cake can all pop into my head and make me an optimist once again.

Although I walk out of the door everyday in shoes because my feet would be dirty and filled with pain if I didn’t, there is an underlying meaning. Every step I take and action that I carry out is pressed into the sole of those shoes. And because I have made submissively looking down a habit when I am upset, wearing shoes and thinking of these memories is something essential to me bringing my head back up with a smile.To the diseases and illnesses of the world,

“Cancer.” I look down to hide the tears threatening to overflow, and the only entities my eyes can find to distract myself are my shoes. The years of memories that they hold can take me somewhere else in an instant, and remove me from the situation at hand. Looking down when I’m upset or about to cry is a natural and fluid movement, but allowing my shoes to drag me into a happier place is a learned and now constant habit when I’m upset. Looking down at the soft black and white polka dot wedges on my feet at this moment transports me to a time of distress, sadness, and anger.

The shouts and sentiments of thousands of happy people suddenly couldn’t seem more out of place. Every aspect of this oversized, floating, obnoxiously white disaster seemed fake, right down to the salty smell of the Caribbean air. When someone is upset, they don’t want to see the huge happy smiles or the bright sunny weather that permeated every overcrowded, coconut smelling hallway, jampacked dining room, or stuffed saltwater pool. All that person wants is the familiarity and routine of home, yet here I stood, not even in my home country, missing a life I had been so excited to travel away from for a week. The clear, turquoise water parted for this majestic ship. The magnificent and endless sky free of clouds magnified every happy sound. A strong sense of perfection was projected into every aspect of the Adventure of the Seas. Walking from one end to the other only showed a utopia. People were paid to stand around and smile, rooms were cleaned to the point of being ridiculous, and the overly exclusive attitudes of the spa, the gym, and the nightclub were so apparent that you could pull them out of the air. Suddenly, it became blatantly clear that everything around me was an advertisement. Alluring offers of free prizes or coupons pulled gullible women into hour long promotions. ‘Guaranteed’ money attracted the elderly into expensive casinos (or bingo sessions). Even the most simplistic poster or saying had an underlying motive, and it made me sick to my stomach. One word had changed my entire perspective.

It isn’t a choice of whether or not to wear shoes on any given day, but they offer much more than they initially seem to. Shoes protect you. And when they’ve been worn enough, they serve as memories to where they have walked.

Whenever I lace up my brown combat boots, I think of my grandmother. Most of my shoes remind me of her. A single step in these shoes will conjure the scent of Tomato’s breadsticks (our traditional restaurant) or the sound of dancing Polish music on her car stereo. These memories always bring warmth to my heart. I’m glad that by simply looking down, countless days and images of shopping with my grandmother can burst into my mind.

Another pair of shoes that bring me back to an upsetting memory are the tan flip flops that I paraded around in across this sailing monstrosity.

The shouts and screams of those only thinking happy thoughts were present throughout the entire span of the boat. How could you be upset when your only agenda is to eat great food, meet new people, and go places you’ve never been to so that you can try new things? From the old women who wouldn’t leave the slot machines – even to take a bathroom break – to the honeymooning couple that won’t take their hands off of each other until security threatens them, content and happy people packed every nook and cranny of space. It seemed that they especially loved to inhabit the places I needed to traverse. Even the young children who were the hardest to please giggled in satisfaction as the sticky, pepto bismol colored strawberry soft serve dripped onto their freshly tanned bodies. Groups of teenagers giggled in cliques as the sunbathed, scoffing at those who walked by. The other teenagers hooked up in remote areas with people they had known for a few days at most. The aura was of freedom, happiness, and risk taking. These masses were in no mood to stray from this normal.

Sometimes everyday memories are the ones that make me the happiest. If a person says something rude at school and I find myself upset, looking down at the beige, lacy oxfords tied onto my feet can bring me back up. A little grey mark on the toe reminds me of dancing in choir with a klutzy friend who would constantly make me laugh by stepping on my toes. Remembering wearing them on dates when I was just starting to feel new things for someone amazing can instantly bring a smile to my face. These seemingly common memories are so easy to bring about, yet can make so much of a difference to me.

A reminder of how much I’ve grown in the past few years can be the final ingredient to making me happy. Thankfully, shoes can do this as well. When I look down to see a pair of worn out Sperrys resting on my feet, I can be taken back to the end of middle school. I’ve giggled thinking about the amount of conformity I had achieved with this pair of shoes, and when I think of the memories I have with an old best friend, I find myself much happier than I was a few seconds prior. Thinking about old parties, learning to longboard, and (strangely enough) making cake can all pop into my head and make me an optimist once again.

Although I walk out of the door everyday in shoes because my feet would be dirty and filled with pain if I didn’t, there is an underlying meaning. Every step I take and action that I carry out is pressed into the sole of those shoes. And because I have made submissively looking down a habit when I am upset, wearing shoes and thinking of these memories is something essential to me bringing my head back up with a smile.To the diseases and illnesses of the world,

“Cancer.” I look down to hide the tears threatening to overflow, and the only entities my eyes can find to distract myself are my shoes. The years of memories that they hold can take me somewhere else in an instant, and remove me from the situation at hand. Looking down when I’m upset or about to cry is a natural and fluid movement, but allowing my shoes to drag me into a happier place is a learned and now constant habit when I’m upset. Looking down at the soft black and white polka dot wedges on my feet at this moment transports me to a time of distress, sadness, and anger.

The shouts and sentiments of thousands of happy people suddenly couldn’t seem more out of place. Every aspect of this oversized, floating, obnoxiously white disaster seemed fake, right down to the salty smell of the Caribbean air. When someone is upset, they don’t want to see the huge happy smiles or the bright sunny weather that permeated every overcrowded, coconut smelling hallway, jampacked dining room, or stuffed saltwater pool. All that person wants is the familiarity and routine of home, yet here I stood, not even in my home country, missing a life I had been so excited to travel away from for a week. The clear, turquoise water parted for this majestic ship. The magnificent and endless sky free of clouds magnified every happy sound. A strong sense of perfection was projected into every aspect of the Adventure of the Seas. Walking from one end to the other only showed a utopia. People were paid to stand around and smile, rooms were cleaned to the point of being ridiculous, and the overly exclusive attitudes of the spa, the gym, and the nightclub were so apparent that you could pull them out of the air. Suddenly, it became blatantly clear that everything around me was an advertisement. Alluring offers of free prizes or coupons pulled gullible women into hour long promotions. ‘Guaranteed’ money attracted the elderly into expensive casinos (or bingo sessions). Even the most simplistic poster or saying had an underlying motive, and it made me sick to my stomach. One word had changed my entire perspective.

It isn’t a choice of whether or not to wear shoes on any given day, but they offer much more than they initially seem to. Shoes protect you. And when they’ve been worn enough, they serve as memories to where they have walked.

Whenever I lace up my brown combat boots, I think of my grandmother. Most of my shoes remind me of her. A single step in these shoes will conjure the scent of Tomato’s breadsticks (our traditional restaurant) or the sound of dancing Polish music on her car stereo. These memories always bring warmth to my heart. I’m glad that by simply looking down, countless days and images of shopping with my grandmother can burst into my mind.

Another pair of shoes that bring me back to an upsetting memory are the tan flip flops that I paraded around in across this sailing monstrosity.

The shouts and screams of those only thinking happy thoughts were present throughout the entire span of the boat. How could you be upset when your only agenda is to eat great food, meet new people, and go places you’ve never been to so that you can try new things? From the old women who wouldn’t leave the slot machines – even to take a bathroom break – to the honeymooning couple that won’t take their hands off of each other until security threatens them, content and happy people packed every nook and cranny of space. It seemed that they especially loved to inhabit the places I needed to traverse. Even the young children who were the hardest to please giggled in satisfaction as the sticky, pepto bismol colored strawberry soft serve dripped onto their freshly tanned bodies. Groups of teenagers giggled in cliques as the sunbathed, scoffing at those who walked by. The other teenagers hooked up in remote areas with people they had known for a few days at most. The aura was of freedom, happiness, and risk taking. These masses were in no mood to stray from this normal.

Sometimes everyday memories are the ones that make me the happiest. If a person says something rude at school and I find myself upset, looking down at the beige, lacy oxfords tied onto my feet can bring me back up. A little grey mark on the toe reminds me of dancing in choir with a klutzy friend who would constantly make me laugh by stepping on my toes. Remembering wearing them on dates when I was just starting to feel new things for someone amazing can instantly bring a smile to my face. These seemingly common memories are so easy to bring about, yet can make so much of a difference to me.

A reminder of how much I’ve grown in the past few years can be the final ingredient to making me happy. Thankfully, shoes can do this as well. When I look down to see a pair of worn out Sperrys resting on my feet, I can be taken back to the end of middle school. I’ve giggled thinking about the amount of conformity I had achieved with this pair of shoes, and when I think of the memories I have with an old best friend, I find myself much happier than I was a few seconds prior. Thinking about old parties, learning to longboard, and (strangely enough) making cake can all pop into my head and make me an optimist once again.

Although I walk out of the door everyday in shoes because my feet would be dirty and filled with pain if I didn’t, there is an underlying meaning. Every step I take and action that I carry out is pressed into the sole of those shoes. And because I have made submissively looking down a habit when I am upset, wearing shoes and thinking of these memories is something essential to me bringing my head back up with a smile.To the diseases and illnesses of the world,

“Cancer.” I look down to hide the tears threatening to overflow, and the only entities my eyes can find to distract myself are my shoes. The years of memories that they hold can take me somewhere else in an instant, and remove me from the situation at hand. Looking down when I’m upset or about to cry is a natural and fluid movement, but allowing my shoes to drag me into a happier place is a learned and now constant habit when I’m upset. Looking down at the soft black and white polka dot wedges on my feet at this moment transports me to a time of distress, sadness, and anger.

The shouts and sentiments of thousands of happy people suddenly couldn’t seem more out of place. Every aspect of this oversized, floating, obnoxiously white disaster seemed fake, right down to the salty smell of the Caribbean air. When someone is upset, they don’t want to see the huge happy smiles or the bright sunny weather that permeated every overcrowded, coconut smelling hallway, jampacked dining room, or stuffed saltwater pool. All that person wants is the familiarity and routine of home, yet here I stood, not even in my home country, missing a life I had been so excited to travel away from for a week. The clear, turquoise water parted for this majestic ship. The magnificent and endless sky free of clouds magnified every happy sound. A strong sense of perfection was projected into every aspect of the Adventure of the Seas. Walking from one end to the other only showed a utopia. People were paid to stand around and smile, rooms were cleaned to the point of being ridiculous, and the overly exclusive attitudes of the spa, the gym, and the nightclub were so apparent that you could pull them out of the air. Suddenly, it became blatantly clear that everything around me was an advertisement. Alluring offers of free prizes or coupons pulled gullible women into hour long promotions. ‘Guaranteed’ money attracted the elderly into expensive casinos (or bingo sessions). Even the most simplistic poster or saying had an underlying motive, and it made me sick to my stomach. One word had changed my entire perspective.

It isn’t a choice of whether or not to wear shoes on any given day, but they offer much more than they initially seem to. Shoes protect you. And when they’ve been worn enough, they serve as memories to where they have walked.

Whenever I lace up my brown combat boots, I think of my grandmother. Most of my shoes remind me of her. A single step in these shoes will conjure the scent of Tomato’s breadsticks (our traditional restaurant) or the sound of dancing Polish music on her car stereo. These memories always bring warmth to my heart. I’m glad that by simply looking down, countless days and images of shopping with my grandmother can burst into my mind.

Another pair of shoes that bring me back to an upsetting memory are the tan flip flops that I paraded around in across this sailing monstrosity.

The shouts and screams of those only thinking happy thoughts were present throughout the entire span of the boat. How could you be upset when your only agenda is to eat great food, meet new people, and go places you’ve never been to so that you can try new things? From the old women who wouldn’t leave the slot machines – even to take a bathroom break – to the honeymooning couple that won’t take their hands off of each other until security threatens them, content and happy people packed every nook and cranny of space. It seemed that they especially loved to inhabit the places I needed to traverse. Even the young children who were the hardest to please giggled in satisfaction as the sticky, pepto bismol colored strawberry soft serve dripped onto their freshly tanned bodies. Groups of teenagers giggled in cliques as the sunbathed, scoffing at those who walked by. The other teenagers hooked up in remote areas with people they had known for a few days at most. The aura was of freedom, happiness, and risk taking. These masses were in no mood to stray from this normal.

Sometimes everyday memories are the ones that make me the happiest. If a person says something rude at school and I find myself upset, looking down at the beige, lacy oxfords tied onto my feet can bring me back up. A little grey mark on the toe reminds me of dancing in choir with a klutzy friend who would constantly make me laugh by stepping on my toes. Remembering wearing them on dates when I was just starting to feel new things for someone amazing can instantly bring a smile to my face. These seemingly common memories are so easy to bring about, yet can make so much of a difference to me.

A reminder of how much I’ve grown in the past few years can be the final ingredient to making me happy. Thankfully, shoes can do this as well. When I look down to see a pair of worn out Sperrys resting on my feet, I can be taken back to the end of middle school. I’ve giggled thinking about the amount of conformity I had achieved with this pair of shoes, and when I think of the memories I have with an old best friend, I find myself much happier than I was a few seconds prior. Thinking about old parties, learning to longboard, and (strangely enough) making cake can all pop into my head and make me an optimist once again.

Although I walk out of the door everyday in shoes because my feet would be dirty and filled with pain if I didn’t, there is an underlying meaning. Every step I take and action that I carry out is pressed into the sole of those shoes. And because I have made submissively looking down a habit when I am upset, wearing shoes and thinking of these memories is something essential to me bringing my head back up with a smile.



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