2001-09-19 3:26 p.m.
flow

I'm alive. I don't know who's been worrying, but let me put those fears to rest.

On the day in question:

I was standing on the roof of a building on Broadway between Duane and Reade...about 9:30AM...and the twin towers were on fire. This was the first I'd seen or heard, after the announcement on the train that there was 'a police incident at Cortlandt Street' and some poor woman on Broadway who'd gotten trampled and was being helped to an ambulance. I was at a job interview that turned into my first turn as a witness.

Where's the trial?

I helped one of the secretaries get onto the Drudge Report for some pure AP news when we heard a scream.

And that was it. The first tower fell. We watched in horror. I didn't cry. I didn't know how to move, honestly.

The building manager reached our floor just then, and ordered us to all get out. He didn't want us on his conscience. We fled, as fast as our feet could carry us without falling. (I saw four people fall from the towers. Later reports say they blew out of the windows from backdrafts, but I can't say. I just saw them fall.)

I headed for Mercer and north, and made it a few blocks, weaving through people, seeing if anyone could tell me more about what was going on, if I could get closer, if I could help anyone fleeing...

then the second tower fell, and we all moved from shock and sobs to the calm of the beaten servant or the zombie � we started shuffling north, crying, stunned, and walked uptown.

A bartender handed me a glass 1L of Evian. I asked for a glass so other people could share it, but he wouldn't hear it. He said their phone was out; otherwise, he'd let everyone use it. I could have used the bathroom, but as I hadn't done it out on the street when I watched the towers fall, I didn't think I could then.

And here I am, just over a week later. I'm still a bit stunned.

I haven't been back to work yet, though that changes tomorrow � back to data entry at the law firm, the most meaningless use of time I can think of.

I left someone out. A new lady in my life, who's popped in at a time when irony and surrealism have already lost their meaning from overuse. We had just started dating a few weeks before bin Laden threw planes at the World Trade Center, and on the day of the collapse, I met up with her for some mutual refuge. She's been the most perfect person for this moment � a kindred soul and a warm heart, a wonderful interlude, someone real besides my brother and roommate in the midst of a country's worth of fear.

But, I'm here now. Alive, still a bit shaken by everything, by the people still recovered, the smell of blood to come in everyone's noses...and I wonder how this all fits together to form life.

She's pretty, fun, a bit of a punk, and all in the best of ways.

And I'm having second thoughts. I wonder if we've collided together so fast and hard that there's no chance of having a 'normal' relationship, that this one's destined to burn brightly and fade out fast, that we're going to run out of things to say and have to fall back on movie trivia and sex to fill the void until we're both feeling empty and sick of each other. And we're just starting to get to know each other.

I had my first twinges of premonition about this, and it's one of the few times in my life I'd like to erase some thoughts and keep on living. Comfort and joy feel, hmm, deserved somehow. For both of us.

Where do we go from here?

Comics have stalled pretty much across the board, and we're trying to decide how to refocus.

...and where is my mind?

with Jesme and my street kids, in my novels waiting to be born, on the road and loose from these ties, wind in my romanticized hair and new ground beneath my feet. solo, loco, mind askew and flying. They should feel like the best dance party you've ever been to, entangled with a ritual dance that leaves you breathless, confused because it was in another language, but the essence of it all, ecstatic joy and the taste of that dream you can't name, it's all still on your tongue, in your heart, in you. I hope I can live up to that.

Comics are fun while you're writing them. Trying to get the attention of children who pretend to be adults, let alone authorities in their field, is pretty damn tiring.

"My Umi said shine a light on the world/shine a light for the world to see..."

--Mos Def

My mind's exploding in logos, breasts, texts and zebra stripes, hip-hop and cooling mothers' voices. It's moving too fast to get down online and it hasn't slowed in a week.

I want rest. I want someone to listen to me. And I want what I have to say to move them like no one else, make them think, dream, swim, fly...

here's the mic. your turn. I'm out.



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prior golden country hits:
moving day - 2003-08-26
her empty eyes, searching - 2003-08-21
my zombie discoball world - 2003-08-08
SD shock - 2003-07-28
San Diego sashay - 2003-07-19







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