Seven seven - London Terrorist Attack
They got London, just like I thought they would. The train station yesterday was crawling with police and sniffer dogs, but alerts come and go.
This morning I sat here updating the news like I do every day. Sometimes I do this thing where I imagine that I’m reporting the events that aren’t real. It’s a defense mechanism from that gets me away from the underlying fact that I make my life largely from the misery of others.
Suffering just happens. People suffer. That’s life. It’s the attachment to suffering that causes uphappiness - the second Noble Truth, right? Let it go and you’ll be fine son.
Most days casualty figures come to me and they go out. They are like sport scores or share prices. It’s important, but it means little. What else am I supposed to think?
Copy. Quotes. Pictures. Publish.
Load. Safety off. Fire.
But this morning there was no pretending. As I updated the story, the ambulances rushed by the window to rescue the people. My people. My fucking city.
I am well, but shaken up. Give me a second to think about how I’m going to write about this or how I am going to get home tonight.
There is nothing funny about today. I want to go home and hug my kids.
Take care everyone.
July 7th, 2005 at 4:52 pm
Glad to hear that you’re okay.
July 8th, 2005 at 2:24 am
ditto from me.
Hope the hugs to the family were long and warming.