aftermath

for some reason, putting my thoughts about 9/11 into words has always been difficult for me. which is saying a lot, since i have that whole "can't shut up" issue. but it was all so overwhelming for me. it didn't affect me in the sense that i knew someone who died. i didn't even know someone who knew someone who died. but it affected me. i watched the news for days. i saw the same images over and over and over again. i cried. and i stared. and i cried more. i cried for the same reasons that i cried when i saw the images of people struggling to stay alive, desperately trying to find their family members, and walking through the rubble that was once their homes in the aftermath of hurricane katrina. for the same reasons i cried when i saw the images of people being washed away in the tsunami in thailand, and trekking from village to village looking for their loved ones on a wall of polaroids. and for the same reasons i cry when i see small children with guns slung over their shoulders, yelling and screaming and burning flags and spewing hatred at a world that has failed to love them.

my heart breaks.

it breaks for all the people who have died too soon. it breaks for all the family members left behind to grieve. it breaks for tragedies that can't be avoided and for those that could have been. it breaks for the people who have lost sight of true happiness in the lies of radical religion. for those who have lost children and siblings and parents to the evils of the world.

and the reality is that it doesn't matter where i was when i first heard about these tragedies. it doesn't matter who told me or what they said. what matters is that in the aftermath... in the worlds often overlooked and forgotten by the mainstream media, i saw people -- people of all walks of life -- come together to help each other in the face of adversity. this is what i try to remember.