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Sep. 11th, 2002 08:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jaina Poking around, reading other people's stuff, I feel somewhat compelled to be serious for a moment and write about today. Except it seems there isn't much left to say. There's been so much buildup-- I've seen nothing but memorials and remembrances on magazine covers for the past two weeks.
And yet today, when I woke up, I didn't even remember what day it was. Not too surprising, really; I usually don't even remember it's my birthday when I wake up on September 18 every year. Hell, I'm a bit surprised I remember what day it is on Christmas morning. But today I got up, stumbled into the bathroom, brushed teeth, showered, put clothes on-- and bells started tolling. The first thing I thought was, "Huh? It's not Sunday." Then I looked at the clock. 8:46 am. And I remembered.
It doesn't seem like a year has passed. I will turn 21 in a week, and my 20th birthday seems like a memory that is years older than September 11, 2001. I remember that morning in such crystal clarity-- pieces of it, anyway. I remember waking up, rolling over to my computer. I remember signing on to AOL to check my mail, seeing the frontpage, thinking, "Someone hacked into AOL and wrote this terrible joke." I remember getting confirmation about it all from SoapZone, of all places. I remember opening my door to find Amy's TV on and hallmates clustered in her room. I remember finding out about the Pentagon, too, and calling my parents in a panic, because if they'd hit the CIA, might they not also try for the NSA? I remember wondering if there were going to be any more planes. I remember screaming at the TV to just *stop* showing the footage of the second plane hitting the tower. And I remember going to auditions that night, as if nothing had happened, because I had a Wednesday night class and so couldn't audition the next day.
I do remember it all. I guess this is what happens, on those kinds of days. Challenger days, Kennedy days. Today, though, I didn't really want to talk about it. I deliberately stayed away from message boards and the like, because I knew that's all they'd be talking about. And yet here I am, rambling on. And yet here I am, being cheerful about GRE scores and Farscape quizzes. I guess that's really it-- we remember, we honor, and we move on with our lives. Can't dwell on it-- have to live in the aftermath, in a world that is, cliched as it sounds, fundamentally changed.
--And I wondered
--I was scared of what would follow
Something to be mended
--Made me wonder who we are
Something we'll have to weather
--It was seeing all those torches
Bringing us all together
--It was me
--It was us
If only for a moment
--I'll remember it forever
Nothing has really ended
--Where I was, what I was doing
Only just been suspended
--Like a flash
Something just broke
--And I thought, I kept thinking
Something just spoke
Something I wish I hadn't heard
Something bewildering occured
Fix it up fast, please
Till it's just smoke
Till it's only something just passed
Nothing that will last
--Where I was, what I was doing
Nothing but the moment
Just an awful moment
But something just
Broke
"Something Just Broke," Stephen Sondheim
And yet today, when I woke up, I didn't even remember what day it was. Not too surprising, really; I usually don't even remember it's my birthday when I wake up on September 18 every year. Hell, I'm a bit surprised I remember what day it is on Christmas morning. But today I got up, stumbled into the bathroom, brushed teeth, showered, put clothes on-- and bells started tolling. The first thing I thought was, "Huh? It's not Sunday." Then I looked at the clock. 8:46 am. And I remembered.
It doesn't seem like a year has passed. I will turn 21 in a week, and my 20th birthday seems like a memory that is years older than September 11, 2001. I remember that morning in such crystal clarity-- pieces of it, anyway. I remember waking up, rolling over to my computer. I remember signing on to AOL to check my mail, seeing the frontpage, thinking, "Someone hacked into AOL and wrote this terrible joke." I remember getting confirmation about it all from SoapZone, of all places. I remember opening my door to find Amy's TV on and hallmates clustered in her room. I remember finding out about the Pentagon, too, and calling my parents in a panic, because if they'd hit the CIA, might they not also try for the NSA? I remember wondering if there were going to be any more planes. I remember screaming at the TV to just *stop* showing the footage of the second plane hitting the tower. And I remember going to auditions that night, as if nothing had happened, because I had a Wednesday night class and so couldn't audition the next day.
I do remember it all. I guess this is what happens, on those kinds of days. Challenger days, Kennedy days. Today, though, I didn't really want to talk about it. I deliberately stayed away from message boards and the like, because I knew that's all they'd be talking about. And yet here I am, rambling on. And yet here I am, being cheerful about GRE scores and Farscape quizzes. I guess that's really it-- we remember, we honor, and we move on with our lives. Can't dwell on it-- have to live in the aftermath, in a world that is, cliched as it sounds, fundamentally changed.
--And I wondered
--I was scared of what would follow
Something to be mended
--Made me wonder who we are
Something we'll have to weather
--It was seeing all those torches
Bringing us all together
--It was me
--It was us
If only for a moment
--I'll remember it forever
Nothing has really ended
--Where I was, what I was doing
Only just been suspended
--Like a flash
Something just broke
--And I thought, I kept thinking
Something just spoke
Something I wish I hadn't heard
Something bewildering occured
Fix it up fast, please
Till it's just smoke
Till it's only something just passed
Nothing that will last
--Where I was, what I was doing
Nothing but the moment
Just an awful moment
But something just
Broke
"Something Just Broke," Stephen Sondheim
