Is this the right decision?

I will not be watching the Olympics.
Forget the whys and why-nots. I might still change my mind.

For now, the one thing that will not change is the sadness I feel. My memories of the Olympics are painted in colours of warmth and love; when I was a child, and we didn't have a TV, my parents would rent a set just in time for the Games. I would sit in between them late into the light in a warm, golden room, and we would marvel at records being broken, hopes being broken, hopes being surpassed. We would ride on the ecstasy of it all, the drama of it. That was what the Olympics were to me then - just human drama, the best kind of display of emotion, power and desire.

Then, a few years later, we went for my first holiday in Europe. We made a trip to Olympia to the site of the original stadium. All the youngish people in the group were persuaded to take part in a friendly, symbolic race. The winner got a wreath of olive leaves, woven then and there by the tour guide. I came third. I ran as fast as I've ever run. I ran in Olympia!

None of that drama, emotion, or joy, will eclipse the horror I feel when I remember that the torch has passed through lands covered in blood. The runners have gone through landscapes of misery, fear, death, torture, deceit, where what I thought was the greatest human drama has given way to the greatest of human suffering. I will not name the lands here. Each country has had it's share and some of them are still in the middle of it while this torch passes through them.
The whole world becomes united by the flame, but the whole world is falling apart and we know it.
I will have to find that joy somewhere else, it is not here anymore.
Sad.
One more day, one more step towards the darkness.