|
Sunday, May. 26, 2002 / 10:28 p.m. ~Just Thinking About Stuff~ Another documentary on September 11th. Why was it I wanted to watch? I can't remember. Controversy? I suppose I read something in EW. (reminds me, Moby and David Bowie are on the cover of this next week's EW!) So, I had to watch, had to switch from the millionth time of catching the last half of "Stealing Beauty", from watching bohemians cavort in the Italian countryside, from watching Liv Tyler's beautiful pouty lips and coltish frame, and knowing if I stayed I could watch her have pretend sex in the end..... To what? To seeing it all again? Why? So we won't let it happen again. Oh, sure, that's why. No, if it happens it happens, I can't personally do anything to stop it. To see the footage I hadn't seen, always. That's why, that must be why. What's new this time? What is there I have yet to see? Black and white still photos of the people falling from the towers. Yeah. That got me. And again, the shots of the horrified, the way they all covered their mouths as tears fell from their eyes, the same scenes over and over again, but new ones, the same horror, over and over again. Why? It's over, we've moved on, most of us. I don't know why I watched. One of those things, like some of the movies I flip to late at night and leave on, staring in disbelief, as if I'm unable to find the remote (like Mark asked me last night when I told him I watch Craig Kilborn sometimes, even though I hate it - yes, the remote is right there next to me). The words on the screen told me this was the most documented event in history, NYC, September 11th, 2001. I believe it. Everyone had a camera, a video camera, a still camera, everyone it seemed. And as I kept myself from crying this time, every time I watched the horrified looking up at the sky, or covering their mouths, leaning on their friends and lovers, or the people in the park holding the pictures of those who were lost and never would be found, alive, I felt alone. I think it just made me think of how we're all going to die. When Giuliani was talking about how many people died and no one deserves to die, and I callously said aloud, "We're all going to die one day", and thought we just don't know when. Everyone, no exception, has to go. I've been thinking a lot about Jon and I'm not sure why, other than the fact that we shared a kiss or two or three, and I haven't done that with anyone since that night I kissed Robert probably a year ago, and that was just to appease him, to make him go away. If I kiss you will you go? I haven't seen him since. He wrote and wrote, we'd chat on Yahoo Messenger, he wanted us to do this or that, and wanted to come over all the time, but I knew he was wanting too much from me, and I could never give it to him, any of it, so I let him go. And he never came back. But Jon. I've been wondering if he's thinking about me at all, and it's really starting to bother me, the not knowing. I know I told him not to call me on his cell phone, but now I wish he would. Or I wish that I could call him. But I realized I don't know his life. I don't know for a fact that he lives alone, or that he doesn't have a woman already in his life, or that he is not busy or involved, or anything really. I don't know when or if I'll see him or hear from him again, or if I should, or if he should, or if it's right or wrong. I think I would just like to kiss him again. My haircut is so uneven it's funny. I washed it again tonight and looked in the mirror and thought how I should cut it more, but now it would be really little snippets of hair all over the place in the bathroom, not long pieces, but those little pieces that are so hard to clean up. I think I'm going to pay someone to cut it for me, to even it out. Maybe Tuesday after work? I vacuumed today, the whole apartment. I actually moved things this time, oh yeah, not just vacuuming around the FastTrack II, the exercise machine I never use, I moved it, moved my free weights, cleaned it all, and then I cleaned two out of the nine bookcases in this room, my library. I took every book out, cleaned them all, using canned air to blow off dust, dust cloths too, and cleaned every shelf, polished the old wood. Beautiful, so satisfying, but it wore me out. Eight shelves. How many books? All old paperbacks, mass markets on these two cases, some old harcovers, language books, etc. Some I bought, some were my mom's, some were given to me, one I stole. So nice now. But I stopped after the two. I vacuumed the dust left on the rug and that was it. I feel I accomplished a lot though. It's been five years. Yes. Five years since I moved in and set up this room, and not once had I cleaned these bookcases, until now. People have come over and written their names in the dust, making fun of it, of me. I can do everything I need to do. And despite the hairs I missed whilst shaving, and I've not taken the time to shave them off, my legs are nice. I do like being clean shaven, until it grows back out all nubbly and horrible and I have to do it again or let it go wild. I don't want to be thinking about Jon. I really wish I'd stop. It's just like that I guess. Meet someone new, find you're attracted, share a lot of yourselves, get physical, well, it sticks. All of it. Then a big gap in time and you can either put it aside, forget it, or it eats at you until you're dying to have more. September 11th, 2001 was a horrible, horrible day. And for a while tonight I re-lived a lot of it. I want to move on now, again. Not forget, no, but I am still not vengeful, I still accuse my government of atrocities of its own, and I believe we need to change many things in this country, most notably our leader, but that's not for a while yet. Still, nothing will make it go away, ever. Reminders are good, I suppose, but they leave me empty inside, lost and lonely. Cost of the War in Iraq
(JavaScript Error)
Recent Entries: It Was 40 Years Ago Today - 9:44 a.m. , Friday, Oct. 12, 2012 Dead Black Cat - 9:07 a.m. , Wednesday, Jan. 25, 2012 As Seen From Outer Space - 1:07 a.m. , Saturday, Dec. 05, 2009 I Survived to Tell the Tale - 7:29 a.m. , Friday, Sept. 18, 2009 Reading My Life - 12:55 p.m. , Saturday, Sept. 12, 2009 
  |