Life I spent the past couple of days in bed, full of cold, which is how I managed to read the Danny Wallace book in record time in comparison to Elizabeth Wurtzel (excuse me while I sneeze ... waits ... oh alright ... bless me). Yesterday my ears chewed through The Rough Guides to Russia (still wierd), Scandinavia and Paris Cafes. Today I tried to be a bit New York so it was the soundtrack to Manhattan and this Norah Jones collaboration (which I have tried to review, but since I can't review music at all, just ends up sounding a bit bluesy, a bit country).

So it's two years now and for some reason it still hasn't gone away. Being home alone tucked up in bed I tried not to think about it. Almost ritualistically I put the tv on at about 3 o'clock to check that nothing had happened other than the memorial service. I found the brief moments of that difficult to watch so I went back to bed. The same question keeps being asked. Has the world really changed? Well, yes it has. All of the political news about reports and enquiries all lead backwards, however vaguely, to what happened in New York that day, and the ripple effects large and small are going to continue for years to come. I just wish they could all be like this ....

No comments:

Post a comment