Journal Entries
09.12.01 -- The Horror
Posted Sep 12, 2001
The sound of fighter jets overhead is becoming quite unnerving.
I have only begun to feel the full reality of what happened yesterday. I cannot say that I am overcome powerfully by grief or anger or fear, but only now do I realize that, never having stood in, on, or before the World Trade Center, I never will. And I have only been to New York City twice in my life. Some of my friends have never been there at all.
I realize now that the face of war has been changed forever. I realize now that I am scared for the guys in my class, scared that a mandatory draft will be started in the event that war does break out. I am scared of biological warfare.
I still wish for a return to my naiveté. I don't want to see any more pictures of the explosions, to hear about people jumping out of buildings to avoid being burned to death, to hear about panicked cell phone calls from the plane crash victims minutes before they died.
And quite ironically, although I consider myself an artist, I find myself unable to produce anything meaningful enough to communicate the sense of loss and fear I feel.
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Post script, 09.11.01
Posted Sep 12, 2001
I still offer my condolences, as inadequate as they are, to those whose families or friends have been affected in any way by today's destruction. My prayers are with you.
And I pray that the next step taken will not be warfare; biological, nuclear...whatever.
I am part of the senior class of 2002. Imagining all my guy friends...just all the guys in my class...possibly being drafted scares me. Everybody being shipped off to war...
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*complainwhine*
Posted Sep 12, 2001
And I wish my mom would leave me alone.
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09.11.01
Posted Sep 12, 2001
To add to the thousands of articles about the World Trade Center bombing this morning...I'm sure I'm not the only teen writing about this. I know my friend Kit has already blogged about it, and I'm sure I'll see more entries popping up in my other friends' blogs.
I am not a particularly eloquent writer. I am not poetic; words do not come easily to me. And I am sure that no words can console those directly affected by the devastation.
But I must say that I am ashamed at my own shallowness and narrow world-view. On one hand, it is to be expected -- after all, I am still a teenager. I have a couple more years to grow out of my inherent immaturity and selfishness. But today's events have brought me back to the greater reality, one that is NOT simply composed of school, colleges, and boys.
I am also a little scared of my own detachment. I've spent most of the day as I normally would, except with news and reports blaring at me in the hallways at school, on the bus, and at home. It scares me that I can hear about the staggering number of people killed without feeling a great sense of grief, that the presence of war is thick in the air, that the impact on the economy is going to be colossal. It scares me that I can hear all this and not be lying on the ground twitching in fear. Okay, that's an exaggeration…but I'm expecting some sort of greater emotional response here. I suppose that if I was more directly affected, the shock would be greater, but at the same time, I am not sure what to feel.
This is not the first time ground-shaking events like this have happened without eliciting a response from me greater than a, "That's horrible," which, while certainly sincere, sounds pathetically empty in the face of the tragedy before me. Two years prior, two seniors at my old school were killed in a car crash. That took quite awhile to sink in. I cried at the memorial service, but I think it was mainly the overwhelming feeling of grief at my school. I felt sorry, certainly, but the sense of death was almost surreal. The distress was there, of course, but again, I just didn't know how to react. And just this past school year, yet another senior at my old school died in a car crash...I did not know him directly, so my grief was a little less.
And I still don't know how to react to events such as this.
It's nothing to do with desensitization due to the media, mind you. A simulated plane explosion is still a far cry from a real one; it's that intangible feeling of reality that sticks in your mind that distinguishes it from fantasy. I guess it's just that the whole event is so far removed from my normal sphere of existence.
For those of you who are U.S. citizens seventeen and older, who have not lived in foreign countries considered "dangerous," please, please give blood. I would, but not only am I sixteen (happily, soon to be seventeen), I'm also, sadly, one pound under the weight requirement of 105 pounds. How sad is that?
That's my two bits. Move along now, citizen.
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09.02.01 -- Incense and Peppermints
Posted Sep 3, 2001
Oy vey, it's been a long while since I've written in here, hasn't it? Well, it's not like anybody reads this thing anyway.
For those of you who are wondering (sh'yeah, like, all 0.2 of you), I did not join cross country after all. Yes, I'm lazy, but I do have a valid excuse (karate and piano), but you know...above all, I'm lazy. I admit it. *hangs head in shame*
Well, I also had a big load of emotional schiznit (GUYS GUYS GUYS!) I was going to dump here, but...it would require some language I know that I'm not supposed to use on this site. I guess that'll go in my real life diary then.
Finally saw "Dude, Where's my Car?", which is possibly one of the worst movies on the entire planet. I could have written a better script if I had both my arms tied behind my back and banged my head on the keyboard. And just for the record, I didn't watch it willingly; it was at a slumber party and there was nothing else to dooooo. *whine*
School starts much too soon. I anticipate Thursday morning with dread in my heart. Woe is me. Verily.
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Latest reply: Sep 3, 2001
EggieChan
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