The Day After In NYC

In my mind, to even try to put into words what took place yesterday seems completely absurd. I mean, everybody is doing it (putting it into words) -- the tragic loss of life, the consequences, effects, reasons, possible suspects, preventative measures, all of it -- but it just feels too surreal to even fathom, much less attempt to deconstruct, or understand, using mere words. Still though, what else can we do?

I came to work today (like every day) on the subway , and I've never so much wanted to crawl out of my skin. The nervous energy was overwhelming, even though no one was making a sound. Not a single word was spoken by anyone the entire transit, and part of me was thankful for that, but for the most part, I really just wanted to hear the normal bustle: all the stupid subway conversation; that horribly loud busker at the 14th St. F stop that always makes me want to throw some blunt object; anything at all would have been welcome. Nothing. We're all in shock. And work is the same. Anyone who actually made it in here today is in a complete daze. How can we work? How can I make a call today about music? Well, I can't.

Honestly, I don't know what else to write, what could I say that everyone else hasn't? I do know that I'm lucky, a lot of people woke up today without someone they love. I know that the idea of working seems absurd right now. I know I should pay more attention to what is truly important. I think everyone feels something like this today.

Source: Ann N. Bowles

The Day After In NYC