Tomorrow everything is a commemoration of what happened ten years ago. I don’t want to remember. Today though  I finally stumbled across the journal I was keeping at that time and thought it would be a timely reminder to myself what the time frame really was all about.

9/17/01

This has been the first time in a week I have been compelled to write. Too many opinions, too much editorializing, too much crap to listen too. Too many flags, people wearing Old Navy tee-shirts, news name branding (AMERICA RISING!), that god damn song “God Bless America” which is not even our national anthem. That herd mentality that runs through the vein of every annoying American, causing flags, false emotional patriotism and clogged churches through out the nation.
Mean while what has really happened is extraordinarily sad, and also terrifying.
My first compulsion was to head for the hills. Move away. Pack it in. Get me out of here. How can I talk Ben into wanting to leave.
Never mind, there are far weightier matters that I finally resolved by saying, please just stay quiet.

I wanted to write “it has been very David Lynchonian weather.” You can almost suggest that robin pulling the worm up from the green, sun flecked grass as a signifier for disaster. It seems as if to say, the contrast is too extreme. But don’t worry, you can not escape, turn to a line of normalcy because it is every where, on the minds of everyone. In the store, walking down the street, at the bar, at work, and most of all, in a tunnel vision only the American News media can bring you, it is on the TV.

I was extremely depressed. Susan was too. I felt bad leaving Ben alone for the weekend. It didn’t make me feel any better. But I would be a fucked up thing if something could.

I am glad to be working with cynical, left leaning characters at my place of employment, who all seem to be on the other side of the fence about this thing. I do not want to go to war. I do not want idiots, with their lack of knowledge about the world going around killing innocent people, because they look Arab. I do not want cab drivers crying because they are only trying to do their jobs.
This is not about me, not about my opinions. I think I need to step up to the plate and see what there is for me to help with. Some people are using it as a self righteous soap box.

The government is getting huge thumbs up. Guiliani is being slated for an extended term. One wonders about the largess of ego.

The firefighters made me cry the most…along with the people jumping to their own deaths from a 100 story window in the World Trade Center. People going to a funeral for a man identified only by his hand and the wedding ring on it. The people who are continuing to turn 12 hour shifts and do not want to stop even though tomorrow it will be one whole week of this. The dogs working on the rescue site and all the pets that will not have anyone coming home to take care of them. The fact that Jerry Falwell is so filled with hatred, and that people’s identities, for instance the alleged gay man who helped bring down the plane in Philadelphia is being suppressed by the media. The economy is freefalling.

The hate crimes that are running rampant are the most upsetting. Why are people so hateful? That I said to myself, is going to be the true thing I will miss about NYC when I leave, the fact you do not think about these things in the same way. You feel everyone belongs, at least I do. And yes, we all can have our personal differences with people, but this whole “I want to kill every Arab I see” mentality sickens me, and speaks loudly of how most people really just want everything to be the same in our society. Why do people dislike diversity? This whole thing has been one mass study in the human condition. But I can not say that as if I have been some silent observer, it has made my heart weighted down as well.

9/22/01
Perhaps the first nice night we’ve had for almost 2 weeks, maybe longer. We went out with Ken last night to the Pourhouse and the Art Bar. Nice, unpretentious neighborhood places. Drinking as a refuge. Getting out of the house. I had had a horrible day of anxiety, feeling close to tears. Little things keep clouding the memory. Ben had his photos developed from the day we stood there and watched the Twin Towers burn, and unlike how I remember it, we both have horribly grim looks on our faces. I can’t look at those photos now with out thinking of all the people that died, instead of thinking only about the buildings burning. I would imagine it is ridiculous to think things will really just be back to normal.
I certainly don’t feel like going into Manhattan on my off hours. For some reason this is freeing, I like staying home. This morning we went out for the best brunch at allioli, sitting out in their garden, they have the most impeccable food and nobody ever goes there. A nice day too, strangely warm. Almost too warm. I had good dreams last night and it is good to spend time with Ben.
So today I am fine. But little tinks in my psyche yesterday kept cracking. At lunch I had to go to the ATM and found myself looking up at the Empire State Building (where my bank is) wondering if it would stand in the future. Also you realize living in New York City, daily life is enough to create anyone into an alarmist. Constant weird circumstances abound, and sirens, low flying planes, bizarre traffic accidents. After awhile you drown it out. But if you are alert to feeling weird about stuff, you can practically have a nervous breakdown.

So it is near and far in my brain all of these things. I walked home too (from 31st to 14th street anyway) and looked at the skyline where a skywriter was writing. You can look all around, especially with this Indianish summer weather going on and see the beauty of life. But there is something that keeps blockading that when your thoughts again turn to that wondering of “what if?”. Yesterday Josh posted that one of the webbloggers is missing from the WTC incident. Any time this whole thing returns to personal territory, it becomes so unbearable.
Last night at the Pourhouse there was this cute, tiny little puppy that Ken said looked half teddy bear. It kept looking at me, I wanted it so bad! It completely felt like this little toy dog with acrylic fur. Very funny.

So today holds some calm. Ben and I realized we haven’t spent a weekend together for over three weeks, so that has only added to the whole stress of life. It feels good to do nothing.
Tomorrow the Art Bar is holding a sale of donations to contribute money towards the WTC catastrophe. I am going to clean my closet out.

I guess Mark’s wife wants to move too. Perhaps this is a common feeling- flight. But still, I want to go. I hope I don’t forget that in the coming months. Ben knows loud and clear what my wishes are. I am hoping it is what he wants as well.

Six months later.