Saturday, September 09, 2006
I went to see World Trade Center. I cried. Five times, according to Tremaine. It wasn't a bawling breakdown type of crying, but it was more a manly single tear trace down the cheek. People experiencing the pain of losing someone makes me cry. I think it because that is the greatest pain that we as humans have to endure. There is no Advil for grieving widows and new orphans. No amount of aspirin or ibuprofen or any medicine can ease the pain of death. Even the hard stuff that takes the "edge off" can't remove that pain. Eventually, your high runs out, you slam down to earth, and you realize that you still hurt. And while you were running up the acid rainbow to early death, you still had that pain inside of you. All the time. That's the kind of pain that makes you wish that it hadn't been you that survived. It eats away at who you are, and makes you question the very fabric of life itself. So when I see it, especially when I imagine what it must have been like for these very real characters, my tears fill with water, my airway constricts, and I experience their pain and tragedy in one instance, then release it down my cheek into my hand and into the air.