“Do not try to be pretty. You weren’t meant to be pretty; you were meant to burn down the earth and graffiti the sky. Don’t let anyone ever simplify you to just “pretty.””—Things I Wish My Mother Had Taught Me | d.a.s (via backshelfpoet)
I normally don’t post anything personal in here, but I needed a place to write. Today is 9/11 and I’ve lived in NYC for over a year now. If I hadn’t known the date and stayed off social media, I wouldn’t have even realized what today was except for the bright lights shining up from where the towers stood that I saw on my walk home tonight. Otherwise, New York seems largely the same as it did yesterday.
Except I know it’s not. It’s an interesting place to be in — I’ve been here long enough to feel at home in this city but not long enough to feel like I really belong. And watching life go on as normal on this day, as it does, makes it all the more striking how big the attack really was.
In the Midwest, we saw it as an attack on America. In things I’ve read about reactions from other countries it was the same. It affected us, certainly, but it was impossible to grasp what it was like here (and still is, truly).
What strikes me now, though, is seeing how personal the attack was to this city. Conversations that veer toward what it was like on that day get shut down, because they’re too upsetting. Comments are made here or there about adopting a dog shortly after because so many had owners who never came home. To New Yorkers, it was an attack on America, yes, but it was also an attack on New York.
And being here one year, that’s something I can get, but not something I can fully understand.
in all my life, I have never encountered such an astounding act of trolling as the time I spent an hour and a half downloading what I thought was a Good Omens fanmix and then discovering that it was a Best of Queen album.