I’m such a weakling. Suddenly I find myself unable to sleep. Every time I close my eyes the vision of people jumping from buildings… terrified Americans rushing the streets… and the image of crushed human beings underneath 60 feet of rubble plays in my mind as if my eyelids are some kind of grotesque moviescreen.

It really is like a movie… you know. I never realized how realistic those special effects were until now. Until I realized how desensitized I was already to the pictures being displayed on my screen. Until I realized… That’s not just a cardboard box with a makeshift plane cutting through it. That’s a 747 cutting through the fucking WTC.

The TV is beginning to play other things than the news. I have no more excuse to think of the things that have been happening… But I can’t. I don’t think I can rest easily until every thing that can be found out is found out… And those that should be punished are punished.

For now… I just want to be able to go to sleep without imagining the cries of those poor people in wheelchairs at the stairway hoping somebody — anybody — will help them down the stairs.