I never saw another butterfly...
I am currently drinking water out of a jug...for the heck of it.
And it is DELICIOUS.
So, 9/11 is over once more. I reflected a lot about the time I spent at the site, trying to see it all in my head again.
NY is such a busy place. You drive down the road at midnight here in AL, and you see a couple of cars, a few more if it's the weekend. There, it's 3 a.m., and people are still lined up down the block, waiting to get the cheapest gyros nearby(I know because I saw it from my 19th floor window).
But at Ground Zero, everything changes. The hustle and bustle is not so prominent. It's the only quiet place in NYC. It stands as solid proof that these often-called "heartless New Yorkers" do, in actuality, feel. And strongly. I am not at all stretching it to say that going there makes you proud to be an American. It makes you want to mean something in this life. At least that's how it worked with me.
It made me realize how far away this place was from where I call "home", yet I felt just as confused and angry and heartbroken as everyone else did that day. And I was suddenly there, in the midst of one of the most horrific scenes ever seen by human eyes. I could see again the cameras focused on the people who were above the floors that had been hit, hanging out the windows, struggling to breathe and calling for help. What could we have done to help them? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Their fates were sealed. And they knew it. It must have been so unimaginably frightening that I really don't wish to put myself in that mindset. And seeing them jump, Oh God, what do you say? How do you react to that? You are witnessing death, and can do nothing to stop it.
And then you hear the story of the people aboard the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania. Heroism at it's absolute mightiest. They saw to it that there was not a chance in Hell that these cowards would get to hurt anyone else. Two words that still echo from that day in my mind, simple, yet powerful: "Let's roll."
Conclusion: I want to go back really badly.
If you have a bad opinion of this country, then just remember that day. And if you've still got something to say after that, then get out. You don't belong here.
God Bless America.
Prayer.
And it is DELICIOUS.
So, 9/11 is over once more. I reflected a lot about the time I spent at the site, trying to see it all in my head again.
NY is such a busy place. You drive down the road at midnight here in AL, and you see a couple of cars, a few more if it's the weekend. There, it's 3 a.m., and people are still lined up down the block, waiting to get the cheapest gyros nearby(I know because I saw it from my 19th floor window).
But at Ground Zero, everything changes. The hustle and bustle is not so prominent. It's the only quiet place in NYC. It stands as solid proof that these often-called "heartless New Yorkers" do, in actuality, feel. And strongly. I am not at all stretching it to say that going there makes you proud to be an American. It makes you want to mean something in this life. At least that's how it worked with me.
It made me realize how far away this place was from where I call "home", yet I felt just as confused and angry and heartbroken as everyone else did that day. And I was suddenly there, in the midst of one of the most horrific scenes ever seen by human eyes. I could see again the cameras focused on the people who were above the floors that had been hit, hanging out the windows, struggling to breathe and calling for help. What could we have done to help them? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Their fates were sealed. And they knew it. It must have been so unimaginably frightening that I really don't wish to put myself in that mindset. And seeing them jump, Oh God, what do you say? How do you react to that? You are witnessing death, and can do nothing to stop it.
And then you hear the story of the people aboard the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania. Heroism at it's absolute mightiest. They saw to it that there was not a chance in Hell that these cowards would get to hurt anyone else. Two words that still echo from that day in my mind, simple, yet powerful: "Let's roll."
Conclusion: I want to go back really badly.
If you have a bad opinion of this country, then just remember that day. And if you've still got something to say after that, then get out. You don't belong here.
God Bless America.
Prayer.