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I try to type anymore and it just comeus outu gibprish each wour.d surl u f d
you know how it is. I'm lost at sea. don't bother me.
I went to my old boy scout troop's meeting tonight to hype up my Eagle Scout ceremony. It felt cathartic doing something so profoundly American as putting on my old olive-and-khakis, rolling the neckercheif, standing at attention and scout-saluting the flags. That old pledge of allegiance took on a whole new meaning: its intended one. A promise to stand by and protect. Strangely, we did color gaurd training, so the flags were up and down for half an hour. I had to remind the 11-13 year olds just how important it was that they respect the flag as they respect our country. A bittersweet patriotism overtook me and I almost broke down in tears in front of the whole troop. I couldn't believe it. I worry that this may be bottling up like a warm Coke and I'll make a sticky, teary mess all over somebody's shoulder soon.
I passed the Everett mall's incandescent readerboad on the way home. It was flashing only the temperature. 63F - 63F - 63F. The stores are closed; no sense telling people to come in.
In 2 days I've seen but a single car drive by with its stereo blasting. They were playing Zeppelin. Everyone else just drives, eyes glazed, shifting absentmindedly. Nobody remembers driving to work and back; the AM stations' drone lulls me to numbness.
I dare all of you to sit calmly and look this over.
My journal is now black out of respect for the dead and their families. It will remain that way until my country decides what to do to the bastards that organized this.
It's worse when the sun goes down. I've never been so scared as I was last night. I mean, I've been nervous and all, but never that deep, gnawing fear that has teeth and a cruel taste for death. It haunts me to know my home is not my own anymore. My nightly devotionals have something of an empty ring; I hate myself for not finding revalation in crisis, but as Chambers reminds me, "if we do not steadily minister in everyday opportunities, we will do nothing when the crisis comes." Or, do not expect to suddenly perform better in a crisis of faith, for you will only be revealed at that moment. Therefore, prepare by ministering in the calm and you will shine in the crisis.
My poor friend Andrea is 2 hours away from the crashes in PA/NY.
i have alot of friends here whos family works in the
world trade center. and haven't heard a thing from
them. And can't do anything about it but go to school
and wonder where they are.
I can't fathom being in her shoes. I would have to tumble dry my pillowcase every morning just to get the tears out.
you know how it is. I'm lost at sea. don't bother me.
I went to my old boy scout troop's meeting tonight to hype up my Eagle Scout ceremony. It felt cathartic doing something so profoundly American as putting on my old olive-and-khakis, rolling the neckercheif, standing at attention and scout-saluting the flags. That old pledge of allegiance took on a whole new meaning: its intended one. A promise to stand by and protect. Strangely, we did color gaurd training, so the flags were up and down for half an hour. I had to remind the 11-13 year olds just how important it was that they respect the flag as they respect our country. A bittersweet patriotism overtook me and I almost broke down in tears in front of the whole troop. I couldn't believe it. I worry that this may be bottling up like a warm Coke and I'll make a sticky, teary mess all over somebody's shoulder soon.
I passed the Everett mall's incandescent readerboad on the way home. It was flashing only the temperature. 63F - 63F - 63F. The stores are closed; no sense telling people to come in.
In 2 days I've seen but a single car drive by with its stereo blasting. They were playing Zeppelin. Everyone else just drives, eyes glazed, shifting absentmindedly. Nobody remembers driving to work and back; the AM stations' drone lulls me to numbness.
I dare all of you to sit calmly and look this over.
My journal is now black out of respect for the dead and their families. It will remain that way until my country decides what to do to the bastards that organized this.
It's worse when the sun goes down. I've never been so scared as I was last night. I mean, I've been nervous and all, but never that deep, gnawing fear that has teeth and a cruel taste for death. It haunts me to know my home is not my own anymore. My nightly devotionals have something of an empty ring; I hate myself for not finding revalation in crisis, but as Chambers reminds me, "if we do not steadily minister in everyday opportunities, we will do nothing when the crisis comes." Or, do not expect to suddenly perform better in a crisis of faith, for you will only be revealed at that moment. Therefore, prepare by ministering in the calm and you will shine in the crisis.
My poor friend Andrea is 2 hours away from the crashes in PA/NY.
i have alot of friends here whos family works in the
world trade center. and haven't heard a thing from
them. And can't do anything about it but go to school
and wonder where they are.
I can't fathom being in her shoes. I would have to tumble dry my pillowcase every morning just to get the tears out.
