So I’m sorry for the lack of blogging. I didn’t have time to blog last week and I don’t have time to blog this week. It was one of those weeks last week and it still is, which is probably making the those in that statement illogical…
I have three assignments (long essays) due this week and I have to a novel read for this week and I have another longer, huger and more important assignment plus a novel to read due for next week. Everything of course happens at once. The phenomenon of spreading work out over several weeks is unheard of at all universities all over the universe, I think.*
Now if only I could keep myself off the internet and in particular off Pinterest and Tumblr that would be a big help… but I just can’t. Every few minutes I am back on. So what I am going to do is finish typing this and then shut off my wi-fi connection. It’s the only thing that helps. 😛 Then I am also going to forbade myself using Inkscape or Photoshop until this assignment is done.
So this wasn’t a real blog post. This was just a heads up to let everyone who doesn’t care know what is going on. I’m not quite sure why I am doing this, but it is probably because when someone whose blog I am following suddenly stops posting I always wonder if they suddenly died. Wow, that sounds really creepy to admit… Well, I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m dead, so this post exists. I probably won’t be back next week either, but after that it is the mid-term break, so I will definitely be back then! 🙂
To make it up to you, here are some photos and images from recently:
I’m sorry for putting my watermark in the middle, but this is the internet after all. I usually don’t put any of these graphics on the internet. I have a whole stack of them, but I don’t want them stolen. I’m fine with redistribution by the way, as long as people link back here.
I meant to say something about Suicide Prevention Day last week, but it totally slipped my mind. This is of course I feel something that I feel very strongly about and I meant to use this picture as illustration to my point, but oh well.
I was ashamed for forgetting it. I’m not American, but I still hold a moment of silence every year. I know one or two people directly affected by this and it just feels right to hold a moment of remembrance.
Okay, bye. 😉
*When I start spewing nonsense like this, you can know I am panicky, tired (and/or ill) and cynical, or most likely all three (and/or four) at once.
I do not know anyone who was affected by the 9/11 terrorist attacks personally. I am not even American. But this does not mean I cannot cry about what happened that day. I’m sorry, but there is nothing funny about this post. If you were expecting humour, or wit, or a degrading of those who planned and executed the attack, I’m afraid you will be disappointed. What ever my tagline says, I can be serious and melancholic as well.
All I can remember about that day is…
I was 9 years old and in Grade 4. It was afternoon here already and I was home from school, unaware of what Fate was planned for that day. I almost think my mother and I were in the kitchen, preparing food, when my dad frantically called from work and told us to put the TV on. He had seen what had happened on the internet. I think it was about 3 o’ clock in the afternoon and this was in the days before we had cell phones or internet at home. We switched the TV on and we were just in time to see the plane crash into one of the Twin Towers. This was the news, replaying the event and interrupting the daily cartoons. 9/11 was no day to watch cartoons. We were nailed in front of the TV, watching that same footage replay again and again. Then about an hour or two later, Dad came home, and we heard all the details he had already read. I could not understand. I could not understand how someone could purposefully crash a plane and knowingly cause so many people to die. “How could they not care about all those innocent people?” I asked myself again and again. It took me years, but today I think I understand.
I remember how the tragedy was all over the papers next day, and in school and on the news. Yes, again and again the news. I remember how I got chills every time we heard that they had found another person alive under the rubble, every time we heard of another incredible survival story, every time we heard of an individual’s tragic decease. I remember wanting to cry every time I saw family members cry at Ground Zero, family members holding bouquets and photographs. I also wanted to cry every time I saw someone’s grief drive them to fury, every time I saw someone shout exhortations at those guilty for this attack. “This is not the way it should be,” I remember thinking.
Tonight I watched the memorial service on the television, and again I wanted to cry with those affected by the attack. Everywhere the message “Never forget” is plastered. I wish I could forget. I wish I did not remember everything so vividly. But I cannot. And everyone who can remember owes those who cannot and those who died this: do not forget. This is about more than you. This is not about whether you want to hide from the pain, but it is about the well-being of the world. We must not forget, because we must help the world remember so that this will never happen again. As long as we can remember the mistakes from the past, we can try to prevent them happening again in the future. And this may never happen again.
That is all. I don’t have anything heroic to say about freedom and rebirth. All I can do is offer up a tribute to 9/11. To the victims, the survivors and the perpetrators – God Bless. All I have is this poem by Kelly Strong, called “Freedom Is Not Free”, which I decorated in the American colours.
It’s a decade later. All we have is memories. And a responsibility.
That is all. I just wanted to put that out there.