March 23rd, 2010


Writer's Block: News development

What's the first major news event that you remember hearing about as a child? Where did you learn about it? How did it impact your world view?

September 11th, 2001.

I can remember coming home from school  and seeing it on the news. The sight of people jumping off of a building, thousands of stories up and choosing, from a choice of burning alive and leaping to their deaths, choosing to die by meeting with the ground - thirty seconds of freefall to hit the ground at ninety miles an hour... The next day, my family brought newspapers, and I can remember reading them, poring over pictures and stories of the single most defining moment in the world in my life.

It still makes me cry now.

I'm not an American. I don't know what it must have been like, the fear and the horror of watching symbols of the American dream come down. I don't know what it must have been like to be there, panic rife and not knowing if it was going to be a Hiroshima disaster.  I cannot imagine it must be like to have lost family in that disaster zone, and never being able to get closure. I cannot begin to concieve how angry and emotional it must have felt, knowing someone willfully and delibrately stepped onto a aeroplane and then flew it into a building full of innocents. I cannot begin to fathom how people though that it was the right thing to do - taking the lives of innocent victims because it's 'in the name of God/Allah.'

I cannot even come close to imagining what it was like to be there.

But I can honestly say, that day?

It shook my belief in humanity.

281 ♣ 5 References to Suicide

In less than five minutes, I have to go and meet my tutor Alex about the last week I had. Excellent, I have to go and explain what went through my head when I didn't phone in from school and what the hell I was thinking when I thought about eating the medicine cabinet, jumping off a bridge into oncoming traffic and just generally heading for the the Big Easy in the Sky. I also have to explain why I did what I did and for whom.


Wonder if I can start by explain that no, I wasn't suicidal. I was just thinking of sticking one up to the big man at the top, and spending a very long period of time in a very hot and sulphur-y place, according to the Catholic Church.

You know... Perfectly rational and normal me...

Argh, fuck it.

I'll see you later. If, of course, I don't see a broken window and decide that actually, yes, my blood does look dashing on the ground. All eight pints of it, making the floor rather slippery.