The last time
I was remembering today walking up to Russel Square. I could see the buildings and the gym type thing above the coffee shop. Am I in the right place in my head even?
I can't get down to the tube though.
I feel the ocean and the years today. Transported back to so many places. Ashamed of myself and my lack of knowledge. And perhaps more so than even 9/11 wondering how something like this could happen. And wondering how people just don't understand. A whole city is silent, shut down. No theatre productions since WWII. I reminds me of them turning off broadcasting on MTV. Even in tragedy they are classier than we.
And I read my own words and think how self absorbed am I. What are these musing, what are these thoughts. I couldn't even be bothered to understand or figure it out until afternoon today. A days worth of news to catch up on. A mind to wonder. A life to search for one cork bound journal. And I don't even know what I'm looking for in its pages.
Musing. Scared. Sad.
"Terror Attack Rocks London" I want to write them, tell them it wasn't a rock concert. Tell someone that they have no idea how big of a deal it is. Tell them that they don't understand how safe the streets feel. How it's another world away. How the people interact. How my memory is.
And how today I want to go back.
I can't get down to the tube though.
I feel the ocean and the years today. Transported back to so many places. Ashamed of myself and my lack of knowledge. And perhaps more so than even 9/11 wondering how something like this could happen. And wondering how people just don't understand. A whole city is silent, shut down. No theatre productions since WWII. I reminds me of them turning off broadcasting on MTV. Even in tragedy they are classier than we.
And I read my own words and think how self absorbed am I. What are these musing, what are these thoughts. I couldn't even be bothered to understand or figure it out until afternoon today. A days worth of news to catch up on. A mind to wonder. A life to search for one cork bound journal. And I don't even know what I'm looking for in its pages.
Musing. Scared. Sad.
"Terror Attack Rocks London" I want to write them, tell them it wasn't a rock concert. Tell someone that they have no idea how big of a deal it is. Tell them that they don't understand how safe the streets feel. How it's another world away. How the people interact. How my memory is.
And how today I want to go back.