Thursday, September 11, 2003
At a loss...
I don't know what to write. Yep, I've signed on just to post that. Makes you excited to read on, doesn't it?
What can I say that hasn't been said before, by others far more eloquent,those directly affected by the tragic events of two years ago?
I'm just a girl on the West Coast with no relatives or friends in New York, who first heard the unthinkable as I showered in the morning, stopping in the midst to turn off the water because I thought there was no way I could possibly be hearing what I was hearing. Who listened to the unfolding terror on the radio on the way to work, while at work, fingers slowed and mind numbed. Once I got home I refused to watch the TV coverage at first because I knew it would be too much to handle. Instead I read favorite bulletin boards and CNN.com and other news sites. I finally turned on the TV around 9pm that night and, though horrified and still numb, I was okay. Until I watched the footage of the victims jumping from windows. It became personal then, at that moment, and I wept. I wept for those people, for all the other victims who perished that awful day, in New York and Washington and Pennsylvania, for all the families and friends of the victims.
I still weep. For them. For other victims of terrorism. Of war. Because it's all so senseless and awful and unbelievable and I can't wrap my brain around the thoughts and beliefs that would make people perpetrate such heinous acts. Maybe I'm just too naive. I don't know. Though I admit that, as shocked as I was, I was not surprised. I knew it would only be a matter of time before such terrorism hit our adolescent shores. I was just surprised that it had taken so long.
Today I wear my red, white, blue and black ribbon that I made two years ago. Red, white and blue for the original ideals upon which the United States were formed, not the mockery Bush has created over the last two years. Black to mourn the unfortunate victims of extremists and dick-sizing leaders.
It's not about politics. It's not about religion. It's about people. Individuals.
We must never forget that.
What can I say that hasn't been said before, by others far more eloquent,those directly affected by the tragic events of two years ago?
I'm just a girl on the West Coast with no relatives or friends in New York, who first heard the unthinkable as I showered in the morning, stopping in the midst to turn off the water because I thought there was no way I could possibly be hearing what I was hearing. Who listened to the unfolding terror on the radio on the way to work, while at work, fingers slowed and mind numbed. Once I got home I refused to watch the TV coverage at first because I knew it would be too much to handle. Instead I read favorite bulletin boards and CNN.com and other news sites. I finally turned on the TV around 9pm that night and, though horrified and still numb, I was okay. Until I watched the footage of the victims jumping from windows. It became personal then, at that moment, and I wept. I wept for those people, for all the other victims who perished that awful day, in New York and Washington and Pennsylvania, for all the families and friends of the victims.
I still weep. For them. For other victims of terrorism. Of war. Because it's all so senseless and awful and unbelievable and I can't wrap my brain around the thoughts and beliefs that would make people perpetrate such heinous acts. Maybe I'm just too naive. I don't know. Though I admit that, as shocked as I was, I was not surprised. I knew it would only be a matter of time before such terrorism hit our adolescent shores. I was just surprised that it had taken so long.
Today I wear my red, white, blue and black ribbon that I made two years ago. Red, white and blue for the original ideals upon which the United States were formed, not the mockery Bush has created over the last two years. Black to mourn the unfortunate victims of extremists and dick-sizing leaders.
It's not about politics. It's not about religion. It's about people. Individuals.
We must never forget that.
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