September 11
It’s strange… I remember the shock and anger I had on this day three years ago.
I watched a remembrance show on HBO last night, and for the first time I really broke down and cried. It was so, so awful. And so tragically real. The past two anniversaries of this day have been so full of hype and (to me) such fake sincerity from the media… I have been completely turned off to any emotion about it.
This year was different. There didn’t seem to be as much hype and hysteria being generated in all directions. I appreciated that there was time for me to really reflect and think about what happened that day, and how I felt about it, without the inundation of media events and such.
I wish I could find my journals from that day and the following weeks. It would be interesting to re-read them. For the life of me I can’t figure out where they went.
It’s hard to believe it has been three years. So much has changed since then, and at the same time, so much has stayed the same. People are still going through life as usual. I suppose that’s good in a way. Time marches on and all that… and so do we.
