09.20.01 >2328

The Borderlands has been moved to the poetry page.

~ * ~

I swear, my roommate's friends need to get a life. Poor Ylang was kept up 'til 3 am a couple nights ago because the party animal's guy pals were laughing loudly and drunkenly in the living room. It's like, don't you have anything better to do besides kill off a few more of what little brain cells you have left??

Went to a meeting on Octavia St. tonight regarding the parking situation in Hayes Valley. Yes, it was an assignment for Reporting, but I actually found the whole thing interesting, if not just a little fun. A panel of experts had been invited to talk about how the reduction of parking spaces in the neighborhood would actually be more beneficial to residents in the area. Interestingly enough, housing units with no garage or allotted parking space sell quicker and at a lower price than housing units that do come with parking space. Less parking, at any rate, meant less traffic, which is what the residents are aiming for to make the 'hood a more shopper-friendly area. Less parking space meant more space for housing and retail. There's a whole lot more that I could go into when it comes to parking in general in S.F., but one thing definitely rings true about the City : when you're told not to bring your car, heed this piece of advice. Bring a good pair of walking shoes or hiking boots instead.

09.19.01 >1943

Awesome. I almost mistook this for a psalm.

And he will raise you up on eagles' wings,
Bear you on the breath of dawn,
Make you to shine like the sun,
And hold you in the palm of his hand.

- Michael Joncas
Feeling sick isn't a good feeling. And yet there seemed to be something more to it. Would you call it being introverted or isolated to the extreme? Whatever this feeling is, I hope it goes away tomorrow. Sooner than tomorrow, even.

~ * ~

My Lost City : go here for a list of NYC blogs. Last week I found these pages to be far more insightful than most of the major news sources. I s'pose that after you've been blogging for awhile, you come to know fellow blogheads perhaps more than even you realize. Or maybe after being spoiled by Hollywood's thrillers, I felt a sort of surreality whenever I looked at the pics at cnn.com and such. Reading through the NYC blogs brought the tragedy closer to home, because I've come to know most of the folks who post at these sites.

09.17.01 >1336

Hidden blog page and pics page will be revamped by the end of this week. Also doing a major inventory of the blogs bookmarked on my browser, because most of the time two-thirds of them just sit there staring at me whenever I pull down the Favorites menu.

Stuff from young writers gets me really excited. Why? Because I feel like they need to share their work and cultivate their talent, esp. if they recognize that it's God-given. I've a cousin who's majoring here at State in creative writing, and from what I've heard, he is an awesome writer. I want to talk with him, to read his stuff, to encourage him to keep writing . . .

09.16.01 >2109

Tomorrow is Monday. The beginning of a new week. The stock markets will be opening again.

Semi-normalcy, I guess. I was wondering if perhaps I've been focusing too much on the tragedy itself and not enough on the recovery. That has to start somewhere, right? While my mind has been preoccupied by everything that's happened this week . . . it really is time to focus on the here and now.

Which means I'd best crack open the textbooks and stop moping. Or crack open a book, at least.


This has been me all afternoon and all evening since I got home : doing a little work on the blog. Rearranging webpages. Surfing other blogs. Great, at least I'm keeping myself occupied. Two hours later, I was still sitting at the computer doing the same thing. Another hour passes : this is me writing up a shopping list. Glancing at the papers below my desk and rereading the troubling headlines. Reaching for the Sunday paper in my backpack and then deciding not to (No way. I'm sick of reading all this war rhetoric.). Opening my Bible and leaving it unread on my bed. Wandering into the living room to see what my roommate Ylang is watching on TV. Shivering because it's cold and I seem to be the only one who notices or cares. Fiddling with the volume on my speakers. Looking over the newest additions to my bookshelf and shaking my head. Logging in to Tripod, pondering what else to post here and wondering if I can write about anything normal, when everything isn't so normal anymore. Red Branch sits on my little tabletop, and I can't yet motivate myself to continue reading it. C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity also sits on my bed untouched. I haven't unpacked my travel bag yet. I keep looking at the phone, wondering if I should call . . . (You still haven't thought of anything to talk about.) And on and on.


~ * ~

A way koo-el page. It takes awhile to load, but it's worth the wait.

And if you're in the mood to read, check out missing pieces.

One more : this is an awesome article.


Some more stuff added to the poetry page. The poem below and two others I'll add soon, too (at least, I hope I remember to add 'em!), to start something similar to the Dream Run.

~ * ~

Weeping is obviously appropiate and provides release during a time like this. We cry over lots of things when stimulated by different emotions.

We shed tears when we lose a loved one. We cry when a relationship doesn't work out. We cry while watching a sentimental moment in a movie or TV drama, or while reading a book with themes that strike a chord in our hearts.

I sometimes weep when I pray. I even weep during worship. For me, sometimes crying is the only form of worship I can offer.

I have seen more people cry during this past week than I have since the OKC bombing. Brought together by a disaster of such a monumental scale, you can't help but weep in the midst of something like this.

So cry. Don't keep it inside if you can't help it. No one will look at you funny - everyone else will be crying, too.

~ * ~

Argh. I want to call somebody and just talk. But then again, I'm afraid that once you pick up the phone, there will be nothing left to say.


What makes me weep . . .

It's the smiling faces of the missing
plastered on every available surface.

It's the despair and anguish
on the faces of the families, searching, waiting . . .

It's the exhaustion, shock and determination
of the rescuers.

It's the red, white and blue
rippling in the wind.

It's the flickering candlelight
that illuminates an earnest face
of someone two thousand miles away.

It's the eerie, untold depths
of every moment of silence.

09.14.01 >1658

What follows reflects my feelings alone.

A growing number of people are urging our nation's leaders to think rationally before acting prematurely. Mr. Bush, while I'm sure Tuesday's acts of terrorism compels you to act, retaliation is not the answer. I understand we have the capabilities to drop another atom bomb or two just to "compensate" for our losses, but why destroy many more innocent lives to get to the guilty few? In the end, revenge only kills you, not the perpetrator.

Beyond this response, I really don't know what to say or feel. I'm sad, though. Sad for the people on the hijacked planes, sad for those who died while trying to help others out of the towers before they collapsed. Sad most of all, though, and perhaps outraged to a degree I can't yet define, because some "Americans" feel it is necessary to use their own ignorance as weapons against some of their fellow citizens . . . simply because they look like or come from the same ethnic group the terrorists belong to.

Stop acting like self-righteous dumb butts and come off your pedestals, people. The Arab-Americans who live in your neighborhood or work at the same job as you are entitled to the same rights and privileges as any other American, regardless of skin color. You promote tolerance in our society, branding those who disagree with you as being too narrow-minded, and then choose to show intolerance when a tragedy of this size suddenly brings you face to face with your own limits.

Get a life.

~ * ~

I'm constantly refreshing the Red Cross Disaster Relief Fund page at Amazon. Wow. Over $5 million in donations already.

And you wanna know something else? I can't wait to read the stories of those nameless, faceless heroes who emerged from this disaster. You guys rock.

09.12.01 >1704

Day Two.

Class was dismissed early, though I'm a little puzzled as to why. Things have pretty much returned to normal around here. We know from a general outlook, of course, that things will never be the same again. I, and perhaps every other American, I'm sure, await the total number of casualties from yesterday.

I found this earlier and couldn't pass it up. (Scroll down to the tribute.)

Please refer to Jason's blog when possible - he's compiling a list of personal accounts from bloggers who live or work in NYC, and I definitely agree with one statement he made : "the Personal Web certainly shined."

He's also right about one other thing : THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK. That way folks like Jish won't feel the brunt of such prejudice from idiots like those who populate his neighborhood. Yeah, I know . . . not exactly a nice or even Christian thing to say.

Argh. Big time.

09.11.01 >1521

Somewhat better now. In fact, I read through the first post from today and thought it was somewhat depressing.

Still sad about what happened. Who isn't? A couple of reactions could come out of this : retaliation, and I've even heard the word "war" thrown around. I hope it doesn't come to that.

Back later. Right now I can't concentrate on anything, but I don't want to dwell on something that'll drag me down, though this day will definitely live in infamy for a very long time.


Some good secondary news sources and blogs to visit, if you wish to keep track of the happenings in New York and D.C. :

Dave Winer
Black Hole Brain
World New York
(Most of these links were originally found at Jason's site.)

~ * ~

. . . all the schools in S.F. have been closed today.

Several of our borders have been closed.
All U.S. flights have been cancelled. All airports were shut down.
All baseball games were cancelled.

And in the meantime, the devastation never seems to end.

What more did you expect me to say during a time like this?

I am seething.
I am completely beyond sad.
I feel helpless.
I'm not okay, obviously.