I have tried at least a half -dozen times to write down how I feel about 9/11 as an American spending this significant cultural anniversary abroad. I couldn’t decide if I should write about how the world has changed, or how my life has changed, or how I feel about the whole damn thing. I still can’t. Everything I try to commit to this post is simultaneously too big to write down and too small to really express the mixture of pride and grief in my heart.
Being so far away has been tough, especially as French media does not shy away from recognizing today with the same footage that irritated me so much as a 9 year old in southern California when it played on every station for 3 days. Watching the mixture of human calamity in that footage 10 years later, the fear that would turn into sadness, anger, compassion, love, and emptiness, transcends nationalism and puts me face to face with this fucking kaleidescope of human experience. We are so alone, and at times we can feel so alone that it surprises us when our solitude is interrupted by events of togetherness, whether it’s a tragedy or case of love that draws us back into the ensemble of human beings.
This is way too wordy.
All 9/11 has taught me is that horrible things happen and 10 years is not too far away to cry about it. However, not only is it not an excuse, but it is a license to love has hard as I can for as long as I can because people are fucking beautiful monsters.
Aucun commentaire:
Enregistrer un commentaire