I don't like discussing that day, or "where I was". It makes me physically ill to think about it. In some ways, its more traumatic to me than being run over was. My accident was a personal, mostly physical event that challenged only my willingness to commit to my own recovery. While september 11th effected me personally, physically, in no way what so ever, its so much harder in my mind to deal with.
The images, the fact that in the lounge N8 uses the term 'islamofascist' in all seriousness, the macro "what does it mean" aspects of it tie my stomach into ropes. I have two friends, my best, whose two oldest (girls) I attended both their births and whom I love as much as my own daughter. They have never known this country when we weren't at "war". I personally can not think on that and feel anything other than we have profoundly failed. We failed those girls, we failed the memories of all those that died on sept 11th, we failed those in the military and we dishonored what they would sacrifice when we allowed a decade long, preemptive war against a country that had NOTHING to do with the attack.
What I feel today, is rage. Not at a bunch of backwards cave dwellers with an over inflated sense of importance, but at myself, and ourselves. Rage at the lost opportunities, rage at the lives needlessly thrown away, rage at a nation unwilling to share in sacrifice, a nation too busy with "dancing with the stars" or "american idol", a nation that wears its patriotism on its sleeve and actually thinks that endless consumption at Walmart was the patriotic thing to do on sept 12th.
I don't know where I'm going with this, its mostly stream of consciousness stuff. Maybe its just my memory of today, or maybe I'm just a bitch with a sandy vagina, either is possible.
The images, the fact that in the lounge N8 uses the term 'islamofascist' in all seriousness, the macro "what does it mean" aspects of it tie my stomach into ropes. I have two friends, my best, whose two oldest (girls) I attended both their births and whom I love as much as my own daughter. They have never known this country when we weren't at "war". I personally can not think on that and feel anything other than we have profoundly failed. We failed those girls, we failed the memories of all those that died on sept 11th, we failed those in the military and we dishonored what they would sacrifice when we allowed a decade long, preemptive war against a country that had NOTHING to do with the attack.
What I feel today, is rage. Not at a bunch of backwards cave dwellers with an over inflated sense of importance, but at myself, and ourselves. Rage at the lost opportunities, rage at the lives needlessly thrown away, rage at a nation unwilling to share in sacrifice, a nation too busy with "dancing with the stars" or "american idol", a nation that wears its patriotism on its sleeve and actually thinks that endless consumption at Walmart was the patriotic thing to do on sept 12th.
I don't know where I'm going with this, its mostly stream of consciousness stuff. Maybe its just my memory of today, or maybe I'm just a bitch with a sandy vagina, either is possible.
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