it’s september eleven today. i wonder how things have changed. i guess i was too young to notice, too innocent. it seemed so far away. people were saying not to jump on the T, but i didn’t listen, because i was a four hour drive away. nobody was gonna blow the shit out of boston, right?
we all have our excuses, i suppose. but in all honesty, we can’t feel everything. it’s difficult for me to feel the tragedy even if the whole country is supposedly affected. it is not that i don’t feel bad about the loss that happened that day and in the days that followed, and in the years that followed, of lives, love, and personal liberties. it is just that i was not really directly affected. i was lucky. nobody i know died, hell, i never even get stopped for extra inspections in the airport.
empathy is so difficult. september eleven is not the only tragedy in life, although, for one day, it pretty much was to a lot of people. and given what i just wrote in the post before, i’d rather not lie about the way i feel about it, but instead find my own way to improve our dire world. and i will not stop until i do. some people can settle down with a good family or job and be happy, happy to be content. some people just complain all the time and don’t fucking make a difference, can’t accept sacrifice. i refuse to be one of those people.