7.7.05
6:45 PM
I feel like a burnt flower.
7:14 PM
Feel a little less like a burnt flower after some food. Still feel a bit off. So fucking tired for no reason. I’m going to listen to some David Bowie tonight. Back to feeling strange before, I had a short period of hypersensitivity to salt. No idea what that means.
“Ain’t no one damn song that can make me…break down and cryyyyyyyy…”
It’s true you know. There used to be a few, but after doing so once or twice or three times they tend to stop having that effect, which kind of sucks. It’s hard to feel emotions nowadays. Honestly, after seeing all the footage from September 11th on television over and over again, I just kind of disconnected. I mean, when it was happening, it was easy enough to just think “oh, it’s on TV, this could be real, but it’s not”, but after finding out about my cousin, it was not possible for me to continue thinking like that and I think some of me went numb. Some people went into therapy, some people became downright clitoral and worried about everything, some people left New York City and some people went numb. I think each response has its merits. That particular experience was a little strange for me. My friend Giancarlo’s father was working in one of the Towers and escaped without any (physical) damage and that was the big thing at Fordham in my circle of friends. GC obviously knew about that the day it happened. As for my cousin, no one was certain what happened for a week or so and at that point I guess I felt it would have been some despicable cry for attention or fucked up attempt to top what happened to GC so I never really brought it up. Then the whole thing just sort of scabbed over and stopped hurting because I stopped thinking about it. On September 11th 2002, I was in my vocal tech class at Fordham and the teacher demanded we talk about it for some half-assed therapeutic reasons. Everyone was spouting out the typical “it’s hard not t be afraid of things” garble and when it came to me I went off about how obnoxiously it was displayed. The way they showed that footage on the news like people had forgotten what happened? Jesus Christ! And that fucking “In the Arms of Angels” song that was pure sap without anything added being played on the radio with NEWS REPORTS FROM THE BOMBING LAID OVER IT? Wow. It’s a distinctly New York thing to take a naturally dramatic situation and make it even more dramatic, and how do we make one of the largest terrorist attacks ever more dramatic? We find any and every excuse to show it again and play sappy songs with radio reports laid over them. Pretty impressive in a slimy sort of way. Anyway, I’m going off about all this and I start getting choked up. M teacher keeps prodding and I tell the class about my cousin. I’m doing my best to hold onto this and I suddenly realized how much this fucking hurts. Holy shit did it hurt. The rest of that day was dark and troublesome for me, but the next day it hurt less and then less and then, as before, it scabbed over and boom. It was one of the clearest examples of a defensive mechanism working inside me and it was scary how quickly my mind shut doors and redirected thoughts but it was also comforting in a way. No matter what, my mind is going to be there to work its obfuscatory magic. I just think it’s impressive, that’s all. All the above was triggered by the thing in London today I suppose. Not really good to talk about it…but…I don’t know.
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