just look at this. so powerful, beautiful, invincible.

and now it's gone, and we'll never see it the same way again.

it is impossible to wrap my brain around. the sheer numbers alone--let's say at least 20,000 people work there (very low numbers i'm working with for simplicity's sake). that's ten times the population of my college. ten times the number of people in my hometown in one structure. and then to have everything change within the span of a couple of hours--it's unheard of.

add to that the pentagon, the rumors (some say confirmed, others not) of the stage department, the pennsylvania crash--i was staring at my television in utter disbelief.

it doesn't seem possible that something that's always (in my lifetime, that is) been there, something i look for regularly when i go to new york--something that is so identifiable to me is just up and gone. that there are people i know in new york, and i don't know if they're safe. that our nation's center for SECURITY was partially taken out by a plane--that they (whoever the hell they were) were ABLE to strike us so massively. it takes all of the perceptions of our strength and power and invulnerability and throws it out the window.

older people have always told me how lucky my generation has been because we haven't existed during an assassination like jfk. we haven't been through vietnam. we've lived in a time of relative peace (again, i stress the relative part). and i never got it until after i turned on my television and learned just how fucked up things have become.

and what's scary is that we have no idea of what's coming now. war? further attack? my worst nightmare and the draft? my brother is 18. let's say we go to war and they start the draft up again. i could not deal with the fact that my brother could be sent somewhere to die. WE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG. he and i are both at our schools, trying to get our educations so we can make names for ourselves and have a happy life. i don't want him shipped off to a fucking war. not to mention my friends...the people i've come to love...

this just makes everything so insignificant. and i don't feel completely safe anymore. hell, a few months ago, i thought nothing of wandering around washington d.c. in the afternoon because i knew i was around other people and i would be safe.

safe??? i don't want to get on an airplane any time soon. i don't plan on walking around anywhere by myself--so much for exploring like i love...my sense of comfort and safety has been ripped away.

am i overreacting? perhaps. i mean, i'm in vermont. not exactly a terrorist hotspot, unless they want to destory the cow population. but did i think i'd be in harm when i wandered d.c.? did i think anything when i walked with shawnalea, roaming new york city? did i think that when i went to the top of the empire state building in march and looked (as i always do) over at the world trade center that that would be the last time i would ever see it?

it's insane. and we're thrust into it--as observers, as family members, as friends, and, in my case, as journalists who have to cover it. i realized that in a year, i'm going to be doing this stuff for a living--and that scares me as well.

i know i'll wake up tomorrow and think it was all just a nightmare. but it's reality, and it scares the shit out of me.

but i know i'll always remember what i was doing on september 11, 2001.