Sissel - Bridge Over Troubled Water

Levi Kreis I should go with lyrics (Vampire Diaries 2 X 22)

Creed-One Last Breath

October 21st is supposed to be the end of the world.

Well, I guess, it is possible God will slap the planet silly that day. It's not like you can prove He won't do it.
So, we will have to bite our nails and pace floors until October 22nd, hoping to wake up...seeing that He didn't do it.

I will make this wild prediction...(wait for it)...The world will keep on spinning.

Either way, here is an utterly beautiful song for those of us who survive that day, but still feel like...

Well...

It's a song for those of us who realize how badly we messed up our lives or worry we sold our souls along the line somewhere:

"Please come now I think I'm falling
I'm holding on to all I think is safe
It seems I found the road to nowhere
And I'm trying to escape
I yelled back when I heard thunder
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

I'm looking down now that it's over
Reflecting on all of my mistakes
I thought I found the road to somewhere
Somewhere in His grace
I cried out heaven save me
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/c/creed/one_last_breath.html ]
Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

I'm so far down

Sad eyes follow me
But I still believe there's something left for me..."

Hinder - Lips Of An Angel (Acoustic)

Creed My sacrifice + lyrics

Amistad

When I was young and, I guess, what you'd call a kid. I had this friend.

No, friend, isn't quite right...best friend? Yes, but even that seems to understate it. Compatriot.

On it's face, that may not seem too special. So what? Everyone has those.
Well, this friend was a girl. She was as pretty as you can image any young woman can be and just a tiny little thing. She lived on the other of side town...some would say, the wrong side of town. She went to a rough a school and lived in an ugly neighborhood. Me? I wore braces and felt insecure. My father was a doctor. We lived in a rather nice house and lived a comfortable life. I went to a private Christian school.

There was very little similar about us...or so it seemed.

I, honestly, don't remember how I gained the courage to talk her. Once I did, she changed my life forever.

We bonded. Fast. People talk often about how they "click" with someone or how they "hit it off." She and I were like two trains speeding along and pulling up next to each other. Every car was in the same place, every window matched, even the engines thrummed at the same rate...that's how we were.
We would sit on the phone for hours, literally hours, talking about what...I can't even imagine now. I remember hiding in the darkness and whispering so my parents would not hear me talking to her. We could not talk to each other enough. Our fears, our hopes...our nightmares....were things we shared.

Anything. Everything.
Then one day...the tracks we rode split, veering in sharply different directions. It was a hard and blunt turn without warning signs. 

She was moved away.

Other things happened too (private hurts...things I will not share. Those are for me and her only to know).

We went our different ways and it was the single hardest pain I have ever endured...to this day. Over the years, I carried a little spot in my heart reserved for this friend. (Okay, it's more than a little spot.)

But the thing is...you cannot replace a friendship like that. I have worried and ached for this friend. My concern for her was like a ghost standing outside my door. I have wondered what her life was like. I have hoped for the best and feared the worst.

Some, my age, would laugh and say such an idea is strange, harmful. I should have let it go long ago or sought therapy.

Maybe.

But then...twenty-something years later...

I got a message...

...from her.

She had been carrying the same thoughts, the same worries, the same loving-concern for me. It broke my heart. Truly and honestly it broke my heart. But if it makes sense, I think it may have unbroken it too.

Those two trains from twenty years ago are still running. Now, things like time, distance, and (oddly enough) Internet have made it so those two trains aren't perfectly in sync like they were long ago. (Not to mention the fact, that while it's sturdy, I have beaten the hell out of my train. )

But they have their moments...and this is still new to both of us.

The most important thing of all, she knows where this train is...and it will always be here for her.

Friendship doesn't seem enough to call what we had. I am going to my roots and use the Spanish word for it.

It is Amistad.

When said right, it is beautiful. It sounds and looks permanent.

(I normally post these on Facebook. This is one is just for me.)

What We Forgot When We "Never Forget"

Bells will be tolled and the names will be read. Documentaries will replay what happened and newscasters will explain in detail the events of that hideous day...each trying to show a bit more insight than the last.
But the next thing to follow, in the hours or days to come, will be a common chord. We will hear people talking about how they long for the unity this country felt on September 12th, 2001...how moving it was to see Americans, outside party lines, rally around one another. That day will be longed for.
Me?
I have no such desire.
I wish for an America two days before that.

Overall and as a human experience, 9-11 was not unique. Our country, for a few short days, banded together like countless villages and towns over time. It is what others have done before, after, and during great fires. It was similar to the way the Collective formed bailing lines to quench the flames. It is how ancient shipping and island communities would cling together to escape typhoons and tsunamis.

After these, there was always a great sense of camaraderie.

Because, honestly, that is what people are truly talking about, isn't it?

On a smaller scale, it is also similar to how small family reunions form at funerals. The death brings people together who have not seen each other in years. It forges bonds.

Is the loss, whether one person's life or half a town, worth a short-lived fellowship? You cannot have one without the other, for in scenarios like this, the two are bound.
By seeking the unity of September 12th...you are, if unconsciously, seeking the horror of the day before. The two are conjoined twins.

I long for the America before we simply chose to torture people. I want back the place where true "common sense" ruled and not some sort of negotiated idea of Justice or a Machiavellian land where anything can be justified in name of "national security."

I want the time when torture was torture and not something else because White House lawyers were able to contort phrases into giving the Administration cover to do just about anything they chose...even doing it sometimes to Americans.

Or when the People understood the Government cannot simply hold an individual forever. We knew, every person, deserved a FAIR trial, American or not.
Or the Government could not snatch up HUNDREDS of people from across the world and zip them off to secret prisons, torture them, hold them for many years, then...release them...as if nothing happened...and at the same time hold itself immune from prosecution.

We knew that our laws were based on a moral foundation and applied equally to all, not skewed by citizenship, nationality, even religious views (no matter how extreme).
I want a place where Homeland Security, the single most intrusive government agency ever created, does not exist.

I want a place where Muslims are not looked at with suspicion and have their holy books burned by Men of God, for no other reason than spite.
I want a time when there hasn't been a decade of war and countless (literally countless) lives have been lost.

Wishing for September 12th is like longing for the bruise and medical care sought after a broken limb. I want to be healed.

I want September 10th.