Patriotism
I haven't felt right ever since the attacks. I felt like something was missing. Sure I was saddened and horrified by the ferocity, cowardliness, and most of all the death toll, but I there was incompleteness in my closure that was more then just those things. I went out for a walk in the rain, thinking of someone very dear to me, and coming back in soaking wet, dripping water onto the carpet, I stopped outside my door- and it hit me. I looked at my white board that I hung for messages and such, but we only use it to write jokes to our friends across the hall. It was blank now, and I got an idea, I knew a part of what was missing- patriotism. I love this country, I am proud to live here, I am content with where we are headed, and I get frustrated when we take a course I perceive as wrong, I voted in the first election I could, this past Presidential election. Despite this, I do not have an American flag anywhere in my room here, not even sure I have one back home. There I stood, soaked to the bone, drawing an American flag on my door. It doesn't look good, it's a little crooked, the lines aren't straight because my hand started shaking halfway through, the stars look more like blobs then stars, the numbers aren't right, and it's all drawn in blue. Nonetheless, it is a symbol of our flag, maybe not an exact duplication, but no one would mistake it for anything else, and it made me feel a lot better. I left space at the bottom along with an open invitation for anyone who could do better to give a go at it below mine, so we'll see what happens. I think that more then anything else is what we need to show our aggressors- we are united by something we love- our country. In a contest between terror, fear, and hate pitted against love, pride, and compassion, I know who I'd put my money on.
The Dark Titan
The Dark Titan