I was reading this and thought, "What? Chanteuse was at work? Huh?" and then I realized: I didn't even know you when it happened. I wouldn't meet you for another year or so. How wierd.
Honestly, it was like a movie for me, which sounds callous. My main emotion was an inescapable sense of dread (and I was trying not to think about the dream I'd had weeks before). The only time I felt a real sick sense of horror was when I saw the bodies falling from the towers, and then it was real.
But mostly, I avoid it. Other than my blogpost, I didn't think more on it. You're right, the media has pornographied it, and I refuse to get sucked into their insane world of doublespeak and groupthink. And I don't need any tragic pictures of brave firemen, thankyouverymuch.
I don't think you're *overly* sensitive. I think you're compassionate. The WTC had some meaning for you. I grieve mostly for what's been done in the names of the dead.
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Honestly, it was like a movie for me, which sounds callous. My main emotion was an inescapable sense of dread (and I was trying not to think about the dream I'd had weeks before). The only time I felt a real sick sense of horror was when I saw the bodies falling from the towers, and then it was real.
But mostly, I avoid it. Other than my blogpost, I didn't think more on it. You're right, the media has pornographied it, and I refuse to get sucked into their insane world of doublespeak and groupthink. And I don't need any tragic pictures of brave firemen, thankyouverymuch.
I don't think you're *overly* sensitive. I think you're compassionate. The WTC had some meaning for you. I grieve mostly for what's been done in the names of the dead.
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