2001-10-17 - 9:08 a.m.
There's an entry from last night. This one is from this morning. There's little difference. Just more different words.
It bothers me to no end that I'm finding myself on the "war" end of the spectrum. I find I'm keeping company over here with people whose opinions I respect in no way. And I'm finding these days I have just no patience. None. And I'm angry. And hurt and pissed off and scared. And I've become extraordinarily effective at blocking out anything. Any words or actions or what have you. That doesn't fit comfortably into that hurt and anger and fear.
And I'm finding I just don't want peace. In the world. There you go. Peace on Earth. I don't get it. I don't want anyone else to rest comfortably at night because I'm not. I want to make them hurt the way I'm hurting. And I'm finding I don't care who the "them" this.
That's the honesty of where I'm at.
It's comforting to me though. That even in all of this there are some people willing to make the stand of "hey. what about *not* war?" I appreciate that. And the reminders of where I need to be. And that there are other ways to use this hurt and anger. And I'm glad there are voices out there, willing to stand up and say these things that I'm far too scared and bitterly angry to even fully understand much less say.
***
It's funny to me what lies under people's words. What truth and honesty they're really carrying around. My dad is conservative. Air Force veteran from Vietnam. He's pissed off that someone blew up the building his eldest daughter used to work in. They tried to kill his baby. He's taking it very personally and keeps talking about war. And wiping these people off the face of the earth. And making them pay. Pay with everything.
And during his visit, we got to talking. And my dad goes. He said. You know. The absolute worst thing I can think of. The thing I want to do most to "those people."
Is to lock them into individual rooms. And force them to watch a looped video tape of every baptism, wedding, vacation, birthday party, and happy event of each and every single person that they killed. For the rest of their lives. I want to make them cry. For eternity. The way they've made me cry.
And it just struck me. What it is that we really mean when we say that we want to make these people pay for they did.
What it really means I think. Is that we want them to hurt. In the exact same ways that we're hurting.
