rolling

I'm not a conspiracy theorist.  I don't think.  I don't know.

I'm not a conspiracy theorist, per se.  But I do believe that we aren't told everything there is to tell about lots of things, and that is fine by me.  My brain is already so full of crap that keeps me up at night.  I don't need anything else in there.

Lots of people are opening up about their September 11ths this week.  Sharing stories that they haven't shared in ten years.  Trying to let go of things or move on from things or figure out some things that have been keeping them in knots for a decade now.

I was lucky.  I didn't lose anyone.  I didn't lose anything in the resulting econ-crash because I didn't have anything to lose.

My September 11th was probably like most people's September 11th.  Horrifying and terrible and life-altering in the way it happens once every generation or so when you get a giant shake-up in the way things are.

My September 12th was a little different.  There's a story there that I only tell in small circles. 

I went to work that morning and tried my best to be normal but the girl I was working with was shaken.  Crying.  Nervous.  I asked her if she was okay and she said no- that her uncle, who serves as a fighter pilot in our military, called the house in hysterics late last night and told her and her grandmother that he killed people that day.  That he had orders to shoot down a plane over Pennsylvania and though he knew he was likely saving the lives of several important people, he killed innocent people in the process.

And then I understood why people spend time wondering about men walking on the moon and the JFK assassination and AIDS and crack being invented by governments and stuff.

Do I believe that he shot it down?

I don't know.

But I do believe that we aren't told everything there is to tell about lots of things, and that is fine by me.  My brain is already so full of crap that keeps me up at night.  I don't need anything else in there.