It's September 11.

Five years ago I was in my drafting class, and it was still very warm so this hugeass fan was on, and it was incredibly noisy, so even though we could faintly hear some announcement being made, we had no idea what it said. Later on, when we realized they kept making announcements, we decided to turn off the fan and we heard that both towers had been hit. I knew immediately that it was a terrorist act, but I didn't fully get what it meant, because I never went to the World Trade Center and had no idea how massive and full of people it was. I also didn't understand why we would stop classes over something that happened way downtown and had no relation to me. It was only after I saw a few kids crying and worrying over their relatives that I was like, "Oh shit." But mostly I was unaffected by this. Well, this day itself wasn't the end of my life, mostly I was confused. It was what happened after, like the paranoia and the jingoism and the unjustified war and so on, that really fucked up.

Anyway, I'm gonna go to work soon. I think I'm gonna miss most of the moments of silence because I'll be in the train. Maybe they'll conduct moments of silence inside the subway system anyway? I'm not sure.