Here we are again on 9/11. I considered posting my letter that I wrote at the time as I've done for the past few years. Instead I decided to write something new and just link to it.
I don't know what to say.
I remember feeling angry and afraid all the time. I remember working restoring power to buildings afterward and seeing the giant column of smoke in the air for months and smelling that horrible burning all the time and knowing that part of what I was smelling were people who had been loved and needed. I remember being terrified that what I was breathing would make me or my family sick. I remember watching people on the subway for the next few weeks, unashamedly crying. 9/11/2002 everyone left their construction jobs to stand in the street for fifteen minutes of silence. Last year, I worked at a building right next door to ground zero, and we got to take a minute to stand by the window if we wished. Life goes on I guess.
It's eight years later and if I think about it, I just feel angry. I'm angry that my friend lost his brother. I'm angry that some of my friends and family had to risk their lives overseas- some of whom still are (take care of yourself, Jimmy.) I'm angry that there's been such an infinitesimally small amount of reconstruction downtown in the last eight years. I'm angry that our constitution got shredded to pieces. I'm angry that our economy keeps spiraling further and further into the toilet. I'm angry that I haven't worked but a few weeks in the past ten months.
I don't know how to end this. I could tell everyone to hug their children, I could tell everyone to be excellent to each other, I could tell everyone to write their congressbeings and tell them to get their asses in gear, who knows. I think I'll just leave you all with your own memories and feelings.