No words

What... what can you say about something like this? What? There is nothing you can say. You can only sit there in stunned silence, wishing upon wish that this was just a dream, because it's too incredible to be real, to unbelievable to be believed.

I keep wanting to turn around and write some of my stories - and then I stop. I have to stop because there are people in the world grieving, and I feel like writing about violence and confrontation for amusement is wrong somehow...

I only slept for necessity last night. I was in front of the tv, waiting to hear how many people died. Does it matter? There are dead, that's enough. I mourn for them.

I talked to someone this morning, they seemed to think because they are american that maybe I don't feel the same pain they do, that I don't hurt as much as they do. They're probably right, but I do feel pain. American or no, they were people, and they died for nothing. I wept for them, and for some reason I can't find any anger in my heart. Only unending sadness.

This morning I let my cat in. It's overcast today, but the sun was filtering through the clouds, giving everything a watery golden glow. The cat ran inside. It was quiet out there. Cars swept past. The usual.

Why does that feel so wrong to me? Why do I feel bad for having such quiet, such peace around me, when elsewhere in the world there is calamity? The world trade center isn't the first. People die in the middle east all the time.

Why do I only cry for the dead now?

What I do is pray. I'm praying every moment. War is ugly. A people cannot grow when war exists. When War lives, people don't. They fight, and that is all. Their personal lives aren't important, and defeating the foe is. People growing and living and surviving to defeat another - I don't want to see that again.

I pray that it doesn't turn out like this. I pray that the nations of the world act wisely. I pray that the people in New York, and all over America, know that the civilized world is crying with them.

I know I am.

No words

What... what can you say about something like this? What? There is nothing you can say. You can only sit there in stunned silence, wishing upon wish that this was just a dream, because it's too incredible to be real, to unbelievable to be believed.

I keep wanting to turn around and write some of my stories - and then I stop. I have to stop because there are people in the world grieving, and I feel like writing about violence and confrontation for amusement is wrong somehow...

I only slept for necessity last night. I was in front of the tv, waiting to hear how many people died. Does it matter? There are dead, that's enough. I mourn for them.

I talked to someone this morning, they seemed to think because they are american that maybe I don't feel the same pain they do, that I don't hurt as much as they do. They're probably right, but I do feel pain. American or no, they were people, and they died for nothing. I wept for them, and for some reason I can't find any anger in my heart. Only unending sadness.

This morning I let my cat in. It's overcast today, but the sun was filtering through the clouds, giving everything a watery golden glow. The cat ran inside. It was quiet out there. Cars swept past. The usual.

Why does that feel so wrong to me? Why do I feel bad for having such quiet, such peace around me, when elsewhere in the world there is calamity? The world trade center isn't the first. People die in the middle east all the time.

Why do I only cry for the dead now?

What I do is pray. I'm praying every moment. War is ugly. A people cannot grow when war exists. When War lives, people don't. They fight, and that is all. Their personal lives aren't important, and defeating the foe is. People growing and living and surviving to defeat another - I don't want to see that again.

I pray that it doesn't turn out like this. I pray that the nations of the world act wisely. I pray that the people in New York, and all over America, know that the civilized world is crying with them.

I know I am.