somehow...

...even though it's the last place i wanted to be all day...it's exactly where i somehow just ended up, sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette across the street from my city's still-open wound, and shielded behind my sunglasses and headphones, let my memories and my heart win the battle they've been waging inside all day...

a friend's thoughts on the day

and she's right. it wasn't just the one day. it was the sirens i heard in my head every minute of every day for days on end afterwards - even though there weren't any actually there, it was the horrific dreams i had for months that were often too reminiscent of my actual memories, the crematorium-like smell that hit you like a wall when you got off the train at fulton st, that made me dread going home everyday....the missing posters everywhere you turned, the days those families spent hoping....and then crying when there was nothing left to hope for....

maybe i needed to end up there for a bit today. now i need to go end up in union square, to try to do something to make a difference.