03.11.2002 - 4:40 p.m.

Been a while, I know. Been busy. Been writing. :)

Have decided though, I want to do both kinds, this and the other. Keep me balanced. Theoretically.

Watched 9/11 last night. Wasn't sure I wanted to, really. I'd seen the tapes, heard all the patriotic noises, seen all the pictures of the dead people. I sort of feel that I've seen enough, that I want to let it rest. Thought I would feel like a ghoul, watching people taped minutes or hours before their horrible deaths, especially if it was overlaid with tasteless and not-quite-logical patriotic propaganda. I feel obligated to be a bit cynical about that kind of stuff, which makes it hard to maintain a sober feeling about the more tragic aspects.

Watched it anyway- the roommate turned it on after the movie, and it seemed the path of least resistance to leave the cat asleep on my belly. Such is my moral fiber.

I read a short story once, I forget by who, about a washed-up writer whose personal life is shot to hell because he loves his characters more than his family. His characters feel more real to him. He doesn't even know how to react to real life- not even when his daughter comes home after having been raped. What he does, he revives his career by writing a story about a rapist...

Watching that show felt like that. I watched the camera pan across stupefied New Yorkers and found myself thinking, these reactions are the basis of what humans have in common. A shot of a fire chief: This is the expression of crisis management in personal hell. This is the way eyes move when they do not want to see. I catalogued the color of the air, the thuds and brittle crashes of falling debris and bodies, the ringed look of dust-filled eyes. The moonscape tracks in the streets. All the tangible handles of surreality. I thought, someday I will use this. I will write some crisis or disaster, and these images will feed that story's reality.

I felt like a ghoul.

I hope that feeling a ghoul is enough to save me from actually being one.

-stonebridge

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