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..: I'm sorry, I'm already forgetting.
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What can I say? What can anybody say? We are devestated. I am heartbroken. I feel deep loss and shock, more so than any other death I have taken in, more heartache than I have ever felt. It is a gift from hell itself, and I am unwrapping it painfully more every day.

I remember the Towers. We had a friend who worked in 7. He lived within walking distance, and took us through the plaza on his way to show us his financial office. His job was to assemble complex financial models. The models so complex, his computer was an SGI. They said that if he made a mistake, he could lose his job.

On the way to his office, we moved through the Plaza so quickly. I couldn't help but look up, and feel my neck bend more and more just to see the height. So strange that buildings could be so tall, and so straight. The way my eyes were not accustomed to peering into the infinite deepness of the Grand Canyon, my neck and body could not adjust to standing between these Towers. Had I been from another century, I would have immediately fell to my knees and worshiped the steel, glass and concrete. We rushed by so quick. Took our tour, and moved on to Battery Park.

We left too quickly.

What will I remember? What will I tell children about the television pictures they missed on the ten month anniversary of my wedding? The terror. The images of large commercial airliners, deliberately and skillfully flown into buildings, disappearing into the building. The dramatic and horrible angles of the wings. The evil of two crashes only minutes apart, screaming out clarity about what has happened. There are other planes, they have targets. You don't know where, you don't know how many. Maybe dozens by now. Maybe you will be dead within the hour. You don't know, and you should be afraid.

The evil, as I was reminded today, is such: that had we read a movie script about a plot to take over 4-5 planes with knives and crash them into symbols of America, we would have laughed. Ridiculous and over the top, that's what we'd have said. Nothing like that could ever happen. Tell us a story we can buy. Blow up the Superbowl, or hijack a ship of war, that might be worth sitting through.

How many times have I seen and admired simulated destruction? ID4, Deep Impace, T2, Armageddon, Godzilla, my mind is well stocked with applauded reference footage. But they are like skeletons compared to the real thing. I saw the real beast, removed and on the other side of the country, and it was nothing like I would have imagined. It was not beautiful. It was like murder, like we were watching ourselves be stabbed to death. The knife goes in so quickly, so quietly. Look behind me, that's were the blood is coming out, not in the front. My blood is warm and pours out as if from a large glass pitcher with a large curved handle.

I cannot worship you anymore, Towers. If fear can evoke worship as much as awe and wonder, I am, like most Americans tonight, worshiping the Evil, its aftermath, its details, its children.
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