September 11th

I woke up this morning to the constant pounding and hammering next door. The vastness and emptiness of that apartment magnified every slam, footstep and sliding. Just another reminder that the neighbors next door are gone. Mad that they couldn’t start at 10:00AM or maybe do it during the week when I would have normally been at work already, I wrenched myself out of bed, searched the house for the usual suspects and sat in my mom’s room to the tv that was on and broadcasting a familiar list of names. Oh shit, I thought…. it’s September 11th. I looked at the constipated faces of parents, sisters, brothers, cousins, wives, children … reading off their list of names, trying hard to feel something still. But the reality is that’s it’s been 3 years and not much has been done in the way of making “amends” for lack of a better word. Most remains… well, I guess they can’t come to terms with the fact that they were totally pulverized and became dust in the air. As far as retribution, the government set out to find one person, caught another, killed his sons and they immediately shared no more information about the first cat they were out to find who supposedly was responsible for all this crap. It’s hard to feel so many emotions for so long. Anger, inexplicable hurt, loss, pain, wonder (why), struggling holding on to faith. It’s hard to hold any one position for a long time without something else failing. Hence the looks on their faces as they read off the names of people they lost 3 years ago. Scary. I was looking at the calendar and realized that this is the first time that it’s on a Saturday. Which means in 3 more years (give or take a leap)… it’ll be on Tuesday again.

Despite that stuff, my spirits are moderate today. I’m not sad, I’m not super ecstatic. I’m glad that I had an opportunity to stay in and sleep as long as the hammering would permit. It was increasingly difficult to get into the swing of work this week. But I managed to make it happen. Pretty hectic this week.

I’ve been listening to Jill ad nauseum. She has so much good stuff to say. It freaks me out because I swear she takes all the thoughts that have sat in my head for so long and put them to music. Most of all the songs are things I would say to people in my life at one point or another. Not Afraid, I Keep and Golden to myself to inspire and keep moving; I Need You, Not Like Crazy and Nothing to my baby (and Talk to Me if and when we rarely fight); I Just Can’t Explain to Shawnnie; Cross My Mind to Cary; Bedda at Home to Anthony; My Petition to every politician I’ve ever heard promise crap. This one is Max’s favorite song on the album. She’s so strong-willed and political. I admire that about her. One day she’s going to be an amazing political force. I just hope God nudges her in the right direction. Some of those old farts need a fucking kick in the ass and she’s the one to give it to them.

I’ve been so into lyrics this week. Erykah’s “I Want You” has been talking to me.

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