Where were the Ghostbusters on 9/11?
2013-10-17, 3:11 a.m.
Time takes its toll on everything no matter the size. It's maddening that it has more effect on day to day human life than any other immovable constant. No other law or theory comes anywhere close.
Every day. Every hour. There are more; could've, would've, should've. They are unmovable and unknowable.
I've spent this last year trying to understand what it is that I've done to create this standstill and I've come to a horrible dramatic conclusion: it doesn't matter if I ever understand what happened. Because the more I ponder this equation the more I find my progress slowed by it. Lost in it.
There are no answers that can change the past in a way that would undo the damage created by my searching for them.
The tension has grown fat on the blood of unanswered want. Now that need is no longer an issue, want has blown up into a monster in its own right: Want is no longer simply want.
Fear is ringing like a bell, echoing and making its presence known by the visible standstill. There are no synonyms: standstill. To stand still.
In every way.
I don't even remember how to cause italics.
One cannot cause italics, one can only let italics.
What is believing?
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