I don't know about you, but for me, all this living through history-in-the-making is a little bit rough. It's a bit much for any person to take. This, perhaps, is the closest life gets to living in a memory. People dying.

I was very much against this war. Up until a few days before it actually began. At some point, it just occurred to me that there was no stopping it. Perhaps protest was always futile. President Bush. I'm not going to declare my hatred for him. He is our leader, and I am an American. We are at war, no time to fight amongst ourselves.

Now, to protest, seems foolish. It's here. It's happening. And all I can do is hope that it ends very soon, and with that, that the bloodshed is minimal. It's already been too much.

Then again, perhaps now is the most important time to protest. In the squinty-eyed, pointed-nosed, ugly-assed face of it. Against reality. This may be the only time to protest. To see President Bush coming out of this looking like a hero....

If we can, I think we should focus on our loves. The people we love, the things we love. And we should direct all that love, all that energy and hope, to the people who are out there suffering, being plummeted with shock and awe and bullshit.

It makes me remember what my parents and teachers..elders in general..told me about the Kennedy assassination. They knew exactly where they were, what they were doing, who they were with...
I rememeber almost every last detail when i found out about the WTC. I was in the weight room at school, sitting by the leg machine. Mr Katz came on the PA, and I thought it was an accident at first. Later in the hall I heard people talking about the Pentagon being hit, and I thought it was just one of those rumors that spreads..I didn't believe it until they put the news on. Every station was playing it. I remember someone telling me that one girl's dad called her cell phone in class to say goodbye, because he knew he was going to die in one of those buildings. Just remembering that makes me tear up. And now there's more of the same..innocent people dying. My brother is in the airforce...or at least he was last time I spoke to him. Deep down there's a fear that right now he's engaging in a battle somewhere and putting his life at risk. I'm afraid to call my mother to find out.
Anyway, what was I saying...
I don't like being a part of history. I don't want to be remembering where I was when the WTC was hit 10 years from now telling my children, 40 years from now telling my grandchildren. I hate admitting that I'm afraid of what could happen, but I am..I'm concerned about the welfare of others, and I'm concerned about my own welfare. In a few short months I'm finally venturing out into the "real world" I've been hearing about my whole life. I don't want to go out there. I want to stay inside and hold someone's hand and tell them I love them.