A sad morning
Jul. 7th, 2005 10:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalonI sat there in front of the TV unable to move. Holding a shoe stupidly in one hand and the remote in the other. The only light in the room are the images flooding out of the screen: London under attack. Four explosions. Three on the tube and one on a double decker. There were no casuality figures yet, except to say that there were a few hundred hospitalized. Sirens. Rain coated officials directing traffic. News scroll saying too much and nothing at the same time. I feel it in the stomach and directly under the skin. Shock slowly turning into a sad humility. Helpless. Fragile. I'm glad theres no one around me. I take it in and don't know what to do with it. One thing stands out even now recalling it. There is a man being interviewed by CNN. The right side of his face covered in dried blood/dirt(?). Business type on his way to work. He was on one of the trains that were attacked and he's explaining to the camera, with calm simple words, the details of the carriage explosion. There is this unbelievable dignity in his composure, his tone of voice, in the way he answers the questions. Here is a man, who despite the events of this horrible fucking morning, refuses to give in to the immediacy of anger, his fear. A man who refuses to be a victim no matter what the circumstances.
The train is heavily guarded this morning. There's easily three times as many transit cops & officals patroling the tracks. The platform intercom periodically reminds passengers to report any suspicious persons or packages to MARTA personell. The little monitors that line the cars show only the local news and ads for upcoming movies. Nothing about London, or the rest of the world for that matter. The ride is filled with a quiet tension. No one says anything. I try to read but I can't. I just look at the faces of everyone around me. It sounds stupid but if something bad happens I want to see it coming. I want to be awake, aware, (if that makes sense), I want to actually see the people around me and not just simply engage in the empty gesture of recognition.
I'm not very good at offering prayers, but mine go out to those that have been lost and to their loved ones. I truly believe that you are a strong & wonderful city London. Built out of an endurance that has defied the worst history can offer. Survivor of plagues, flames & blitzkriegs. I have faith in the people that have made and continue to make that endurance possible, and that is my awkward prayer this morning.
The train is heavily guarded this morning. There's easily three times as many transit cops & officals patroling the tracks. The platform intercom periodically reminds passengers to report any suspicious persons or packages to MARTA personell. The little monitors that line the cars show only the local news and ads for upcoming movies. Nothing about London, or the rest of the world for that matter. The ride is filled with a quiet tension. No one says anything. I try to read but I can't. I just look at the faces of everyone around me. It sounds stupid but if something bad happens I want to see it coming. I want to be awake, aware, (if that makes sense), I want to actually see the people around me and not just simply engage in the empty gesture of recognition.
I'm not very good at offering prayers, but mine go out to those that have been lost and to their loved ones. I truly believe that you are a strong & wonderful city London. Built out of an endurance that has defied the worst history can offer. Survivor of plagues, flames & blitzkriegs. I have faith in the people that have made and continue to make that endurance possible, and that is my awkward prayer this morning.