![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Why does this morning seem so still? There are people, driving. I've come to work, and there are people here. I stopped to buy gas, and the gas station attendant told me I could have a free snack because it was customer appreciation day, and she smiled and told me to have a nice day when I left. (Without my snack. Going in to find out what it was seemed like too much effort for my mood.)
The office is silent, as it usually is, with just the radio.
They've closed the federal buildings in Portland, as well as the aiport flights being cancelled. One of my coworkers flew into Portland this morning! He landed an hour or two after the incidents...oh, how scary.
Most of the schools here are open to provide support to the children. Normally they don't announce openings, but they are today.
I want to remember every bit of this day, and I want to forget it all. Forgetting things being easier than remembering, I'm going to keep notes on things.
After I left the gas station, on the way in, I sang America the Beautiful, and the Star-Spangled Banner. I mangled it as I always mangle such things. And I didn't cry, because I was driving.
I know I don't talk about it very often. I'm not the most vocally patriotic person you'll meet, and I get caught up in my day-to-day life and focus on that. But I am an American, and however I judge the people who serve us from time to time, this country gives me freedom and ability to live as I do; this country is my home.
They wanted fear, I'm sure. They wanted to strike at our sense of safety. To stir us. To anger and scare us. This could be you, next time.
Whoever you are: These are people, not tokens, and I mourn for them and their families. You've scared me. You've angered me. You've stirred up a busy little hive of anger and fear. You've woken us up.
I hate you. But what you have done, so far, is to warn us and to wake us up. You have barely scratched the population of the country, and barely scratched the physical infrastructure. Though you may have screwed our civilian transportation for a while, yes.
Please, don't let them manage more than that. We need to find these people, we need to deal with this.
This is so scary.
The office is silent, as it usually is, with just the radio.
They've closed the federal buildings in Portland, as well as the aiport flights being cancelled. One of my coworkers flew into Portland this morning! He landed an hour or two after the incidents...oh, how scary.
Most of the schools here are open to provide support to the children. Normally they don't announce openings, but they are today.
I want to remember every bit of this day, and I want to forget it all. Forgetting things being easier than remembering, I'm going to keep notes on things.
After I left the gas station, on the way in, I sang America the Beautiful, and the Star-Spangled Banner. I mangled it as I always mangle such things. And I didn't cry, because I was driving.
I know I don't talk about it very often. I'm not the most vocally patriotic person you'll meet, and I get caught up in my day-to-day life and focus on that. But I am an American, and however I judge the people who serve us from time to time, this country gives me freedom and ability to live as I do; this country is my home.
They wanted fear, I'm sure. They wanted to strike at our sense of safety. To stir us. To anger and scare us. This could be you, next time.
Whoever you are: These are people, not tokens, and I mourn for them and their families. You've scared me. You've angered me. You've stirred up a busy little hive of anger and fear. You've woken us up.
I hate you. But what you have done, so far, is to warn us and to wake us up. You have barely scratched the population of the country, and barely scratched the physical infrastructure. Though you may have screwed our civilian transportation for a while, yes.
Please, don't let them manage more than that. We need to find these people, we need to deal with this.
This is so scary.