I don't know what to write...
...so I figured I'd just fire up a post and see what came out. The news tickers have quieted down now, and the weather report has returned to the BBC's homepage. I guess that symbolizes that everything is ok now, the weather is now front page material. I haven't cried yet, mostly because I would feel ridiculous doing so. My friends and family are accounted for, everyone in their houses and shortly, in their beds. Probably cuddling a little closer though. I have every reason and yet no right to cry. Crying should be reserved for those who lost or are hurt tonight. For me to cry, well, that would just feel selfish, people who truly have a right to shed a tear should do so. Not me.
I'm left with just a feeling of empty. An upturned jug. I saw my contents spill all around me and said to myself "Ah, so that's what I'm made of". Sitting here at work like a flipped turtle, soft underbelly exposed, not being able to wiggle my way back to upright because I almost don't know which way is up anymore. Why do people do this to other people? People shouldn't hurt other people. It goes against everything I need to be true, but it's not true, and I feel lost.
I'm not naive, I just wanted better for the world, wanted better for my friends and family who were trying to find each other this morning. I imagined it, this chain of hands from one to another to another, making ever decreasing circles until everyone was accounted for. Then we just stood there, holding friends, linked by email, expressing sorrow. I want better for all of us.
People shouldn't hurt people. No grace of God, anyones God, allows that. Show me a religion that preaches murder. There is none. We must not let narrow mindedness interfere with what we hold true. We must not retaliate. We must steel ourselves. We may not throw sticks. We may not call names.
I made my circles, tried to find which way is up, dusted down my skirts and got on with my day. I have reports due. Everyone has reports due. Life goes on after the dust comes off. We heal. We write reports.
I can't promise you I won't cry. They want to make me cry but I'll try my hardest not to. I just wanted better, for me. For us.
I'm left with just a feeling of empty. An upturned jug. I saw my contents spill all around me and said to myself "Ah, so that's what I'm made of". Sitting here at work like a flipped turtle, soft underbelly exposed, not being able to wiggle my way back to upright because I almost don't know which way is up anymore. Why do people do this to other people? People shouldn't hurt other people. It goes against everything I need to be true, but it's not true, and I feel lost.
I'm not naive, I just wanted better for the world, wanted better for my friends and family who were trying to find each other this morning. I imagined it, this chain of hands from one to another to another, making ever decreasing circles until everyone was accounted for. Then we just stood there, holding friends, linked by email, expressing sorrow. I want better for all of us.
People shouldn't hurt people. No grace of God, anyones God, allows that. Show me a religion that preaches murder. There is none. We must not let narrow mindedness interfere with what we hold true. We must not retaliate. We must steel ourselves. We may not throw sticks. We may not call names.
I made my circles, tried to find which way is up, dusted down my skirts and got on with my day. I have reports due. Everyone has reports due. Life goes on after the dust comes off. We heal. We write reports.
I can't promise you I won't cry. They want to make me cry but I'll try my hardest not to. I just wanted better, for me. For us.
posted by Jennifer @ 4:08 p.m.
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