TUESDAY MORNING

by Exener


(September 16, 2001)

i awaken reliving the events of tuesday morning. my heart races as i hear a's voice, as i hear my response to him. so unbelievable... yet all too real.

today, i feel deep terror, fully expecting to hear news that another target has been hit. not knowing if i will feel the thunderous boom of a nuclear bomb. believing that i will, in my lifetime. it is a terror beyond that of not knowing. it is a deep visceral sense of what will be so.

and my mind tries to come to the rescue... tries to convince me that it will not happen, or at least that the west coast will not be the target. this does not serve, as it is not a fear of death that i feel, it is a fear of not having the capacity to co-exist with the tension that i feel in myself.

today i return to the question of how to be with this? this event which has shaken my world, which has shaken all of our worlds. i am forever changed. i cannot even conceive of 'normalcy'. this no longer exists... and, yet, people are seeking this to be so. i receive calls from people wanting to talk of things other than this event, and i cannot hear their words. it is as if my mind shuts off to anything other than events triggered by those occurring on september 11 or to anything not related to violence, hatred, ignorance, religion.

i read the emails of the asshole who thinks he knows exactly what s. needs to do for salvation. what he knows s. must do to repay a debt that he feels is owed. what and who the fuck does he think he is? AND... the place that this opened to me is THAT place where people hold the hatred and self-righteousness that i recognize is in those people who drove the airplanes into our souls. this person is no different than those who planned and executed these attacks. yes, perhaps he would not follow through with the execution... or perhaps so. he has not yet integrated that piece for himself, and, therefore looks outside himself for the scapegoat, for the cause of his pain, for those who 'must pay for their ancestors' sins. and this is just a child to those others, to the 'big boys' who we must deal with, who would bring us to our knees in the name of ideologies. whether these 'boys' are fundamentalist christians, muslims; black, white or brown racists; nazis, fascists, capitalists. the cause, the label, the ideology matters not at all. it is all the same.

so, as i read the email, i felt i was looking at the words of a man not so unlike bin laden. i even hesitate to write this man's name, as i do not want it assumed that he is the perpetrator until the facts are gathered. and, at the same time, i know of what he is capable. so, whether it was him or not in this particular instance... he is capable.

there is another concern weighing on me... that of a. his return home. i am deeply in this state of which i write, and i don't think that this is the best type of energy for a to be with when he returns. he processes traumas so so differently than i...

i must immerse myself in my trauma, he must remove himself from his trauma. i am hoping our methods do not conflict, or worse, do more damage to the other. i must care for him, and, yes, more importantly, i must care for me. i cannot shut down my process in attempts to care for him. and isn't this fate having her fucking way with me once again? this event bringing me to exactly that place that i could never get to before with a... that of not deserting self for other. another fucking opportunity to learn a way of being that i have not yet learned.

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