Arin sat on her bed, the faint sound of laughter echoing from the video call with her family, but it felt distant. Today was her birthday, usually a day filled with joy and celebration, but this year felt different. The flickering candles on the cake, waiting on the dining table, seemed to mock her as she scrolled through social media on her phone.
Notifications from friends poured in, each message a reminder of her special day. But as she swiped through the photos and well-wishes, her heart sank. The bright colors of her friends’ lives clashed with the grim videos of destruction and suffering flooding her feed. She couldn’t ignore the cries for help from people far away, their pain starkly contrasting with her own moment of celebration.
“I never realized how divided the world is—full of bias and driven by the desires of a few powerful individuals,” she thought, her mind racing. “I always knew there were divides, but never to this extent. It pains me to see that power often overshadows the value of human life while the whole world watches, numbed by the same narrative. So many people are aware of these tragedies, yet they remain distant, as if they’re happening in a different reality.”
Conflicted, Arin felt a heavy weight settle in her chest. How could she enjoy her birthday when so many were hurting? Guilt gnawed at her, making the cake in front of her seem unappetizing. She wanted to celebrate, but how could she do that when the world felt so broken?
With a sigh, she put down her phone and tried to focus on the laughter coming from her family on the screen. They were celebrating together, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling in her heart. Arin longed to feel part of their joy, but the distance felt insurmountable. She snapped a quick photo of the cake, forcing a smile, and posted it online, hoping to capture the happiness she felt she should be experiencing.
As she looked at the picture, the weight of the world pressed down on her. Arin realized she didn’t have the power to change everything. A wave of despair washed over her as she considered the complexities of the world, knowing she couldn’t simply wish away the suffering of others. The stark contrast between her life and the lives of those in crisis felt unbearable.
As the evening wore on and the candles flickered low, Arin felt a mix of emotions. She wanted to do something meaningful, yet she felt paralyzed by the enormity of it all. What could she possibly do from her small room, far removed from the chaos?
When the last candle finally went out, darkness enveloped her. The moment felt heavy, a stark reminder that while she celebrated another year of her life, countless others were fighting for theirs. She didn’t have answers, and she wasn’t sure how to navigate the emotions swirling within her.
Arin closed her eyes, finding a quiet strength within herself. Maybe today wouldn’t be a day of clear resolutions or commitments to change. Perhaps it would simply be a day of recognition—recognizing the fragility of life and the burden of indifference. Embracing this complexity felt like a small act of resistance against apathy. She didn’t need to have it all figured out. For now, acknowledging her feelings and the realities of the world felt like enough.