2002-03-12 | LUCKY GUY

Some thoughts that were going through my head while watching the "9/11" documentary. I kind of hate that name though. That's all you hear everyday is nine eleven this, nine eleven that, blah fucking blah. It sounds so cliche already. But the documentary was perfect. My only complaint would be that it wasn't 3 hours, maybe. It was awesome. Plus Robert DeNiro and Steve Buscemi were on there. So here were some of my thoughts:

I look at the screen, and see the people who were there, and watch them change as people. Watch some of them become human for the first time in my eyes. We don't know what these people are like. You could have an image of who they might be by looking at them, but in situations like this, you see the true human compassion, like you see no other time. But it helped all of is show that side. Made us feel less self-conscious. Made us feel unafraid to say what we felt. Especially good things. Why is it that people go around telling other people that they think they are peices of shit, but we have a hard time saying I love you without mumbling it under our breaths?

I look at the screen and just think one word. SORROW. Sometimes I think so much of it is blown out of proportion, with all the people supposedly deeply touched by it, who weren't even near there, or had no connection to anybody who died, or was even in danger of dying. But I remember how I felt that day. I felt sick. I felt like vomiting one minute, killing the next, crying the next. And when you see the firemen who were in that building, it's just great to see it from that perspective. I'm just tired of hearing from people who weren't there sometimes. These guys fucking lived it. They were fucking there. It makes me feel like such an outsider, then it makes me feel like such a human being. It just makes me feel all kinds of feelings that I haven't had for awhile. It's so hard to explain. I mean I wasn't even there or anything. Who am I? Why do I fucking care so much. Sometimes i don't even want to hear about it anymore, but I couldn't take my eyes off the screen that night.

Sorrow, Fear, Anger, Intensity, Emotion, Sadness, Luck. That's just for ME. I feel that shit. Can you imagine what the people who were there were feeling? Some of them didn't even have time to feel. Some people just shut down completely. Imagine what bi-polar, and depressed, and weak people were going through. Some fat guy with a heart condition. All the fucking survivors. Just amazing stuff. Paraplegics. Amputees. The thousands of people who were in that building. Just think about it for a minute. You know how everybody says you have a twin somewhere? Your twin could've even been there. Somebody who resembled you was in that building. Either they resembled you physically, or lived an almost parallel life with you. Somebody who has the same favorite movies, and bands. Someone who you may have visited in a chat room sometime, without even knowing it. People you may have walked past, without even knowing it.

I feel so angry for all of those who died, yet so happy to be alive.

I think that, then I think that's how some of them must feel. THEM. The one's who lived it. It's a total mindfuck. You're so happy, and lucky to be alive, yet you've watched hundreds die, and you know theres thousands more, that you haven't seen. You're afraid of what you haven't seen. It haunts you. Yet you are alive. It's like you got another chance to live a better life, or you just continue doing what you've been doing, but you enjoy it so much more. You find yourself smiling for no reason. Then you think of the dead. You feel guilty, for feeling lucky. Then you feel yucky.

It sucks that it takes shit like that to put things in perspective. That in itself sounds so cliche, but it's true. You almost rejoice, celebrate, you're fucking ecstatic. It's like a party. We're fucking alive. Then you just want to kill all the evil people in the world. Then you want to just go in the corner and cry. Or you just stare into space. Then it's depression, tears, breakdowns. A total seesaw of emotions. Fucking weird. It's unique and horrible situations like this that hardly ever come around. It must still be a daily struggle for those who were there.

I had forgotten, or maybe I just never heard it right, that the Second Tower went down first. That must've been fucking weird. I remember the firemen at the station talking about it like "holy shit". Those firemen were pretty fucking cool guys. New Yorkers are just so fucking cool. Even on a fucked up day like that. Watching the buildings fall is just inexplicable to me. It's just whoa. I still feel nauseous when i see that. As the buildings crumble, your heart just drops, as you think of how many dreams, and hopes, and families, and loves, and careers, and companies, etc. that crumbled along with it. Makes you feel empty. Makes you remember things. Like you have a heart, and a soul, and that life is real, and it may be actually something worth living for. Even if nothing seems like it's going right. And nothing feels better then that day when it gets better. And you never feel better to be alive then on the day when shit starts going well. Unfortunately, sometimes you feel that way when other people had to lose their lives, but you have to take some positives away when everything else is so fucking negative. I feel so good to be alive. Alot of that has to do with Stephanie, and I will always remind her, and thank her for that.

lucky to be alive, love, jon

- premature ejaculation | tantra +