Making peace

September 12, 2001

we went to the beach tonight. there were no planes overhead, only stars. we lit a fire and did cartwheels in the sand and sang songs under the whirring wind.

my mom begged me not to go anywhere public, but it is too hard to stay in the house, where i am tempted to feed myself more media. inside, i feel trapped and suffocated and sad. outside, i felt like i could breathe, again. even if it was cold and smokey air, it was something.

every once in a while, we’d fall silent, staring up into the sky, staring out of our windows, the drone of music drifting into the empty space. and that was okay, too.

it just felt a million times better spending time with people and stories and laughter and faces rather than boxes and wires and soundbytes and images frozen in time.


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    I consumed more bacon than any human should and lived to tell the tales.

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