Why We Leave Flowers

A lovely post by Tabitha Blanken.

Visitant

Everything I have learned about writing tells me that I should not be typing right now. The Boston attacks took place scant hours ago. I have no perspective. My emotions are raw. The event is too fresh, too new to be reflected upon. Except that this event does not feel fresh or new. Rather, there is a stench of déjà vu I cannot shake. It does not seem as though I am seeing something new, but rather the exact same dance. The intervals between each shock are the only element of change, moving closer and closer together into a whir of tragedy.

The new normal is just alliteration for the status quo. There is no new; only how far we shift between action and apathy.

I wonder if the next generation of Americans will ask one another, “what was the first terror attack you remember?” My grandmother had Pearl Harbor…

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