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In (not so) Hot Pursuit of God
PART I - No Better Hell than One Could Ever Have Even Hoped For?
How the Hell are We Ever Going to Fix This?
He came to groggy again, just a little bit more than half naked. The plump n' cute neighbour he'd never seen before nor would ever meet again still sleeping… He'd only just noticed the far too large pile of coke leftovers ...when. The louder than expected nearby but still distant echoing explosion made him immediately he realized he'd once again traded yet another could have been interesting spectacle, something to be seen, for a night of drinking and debauchery... again… these wasteful trade-offs quickly counting up to far too many times already. A night of lively and useless conversations, meaningless corner bar chit-chatter. Instead of getting up a bit earlier than when he'd half fallen asleep... heading on over to Pulaski bridge to watch them controlled-explode a couple of old, maybe 10 story or so decommissioned oil storage tank towers that sat along the Newtown Creek; the industrial ditch of a river that ran through the wasteland that divided Brooklyn, Kings County from Queens. He lay there half-nakedly missing the pre-planned dropping of Greenpoint’s tallest towers. Trading what anyone who had enough of his own little boy still kicking around inside him would have not wanted to miss. Damned cocaine. Getting himself up and over the awkwardness of saying his goodbyes to the plump n' cute Greenpoint neighbour; he tucked the leftover cocaine above the medicine cabinet, with all the other things he wouldn't want his then current girlfriend to find...
He stood there for what was one of those forever moments that more likely only an instant. Nearly mesmerized by the slowly growing, burning around the edges hole in the north side of the North Tower. The fires around the edges burning an image far more deeply into him than he ever would have imagined. He was far enough uptown to not really recognize for certain just what those dark falling things were, the little black dots, mixed in with the other bits and pieces of things that fell from the hole. Irregularly falling, black dots, some seeming to simply let go. He'd could never really know just how much this burning images, how those little black irregularly falling dots he was staring at would been burned into... or how deeply.
A crowd of people, stopped dead in their tracks in the busiest of cities that was now quickly shutting down, began forming around him. Crawling out of this subway entranceway or that office building doorway. All of them, looking up along with him for their own instant forever moments. Quietly at first, but as was likely, even human one supposes, perhaps the site of large looming towers with big burning holes were given enough New York minutes to become, what, the new normal? Or was it just that there was no frame of reference, no context, enough mental confusion that prompted the folks around him to get back into what it was they had been doing. The only thing that did seem normal; their phone calls and conversations. He drifted from his own mesmerized moment to the sound of chit-chatter, random bits and pieces... "I'm going to be late..." "the damned subway's been shut down..." "I'm looking for a bus, now..." "tell them I'm sorry and I'll join them in the conference room as soon as I can"... As New Yorker's often, no, always do, they all started talking, again, all at once. Happily sharing a minor misery, a too long a line up or a late bus with anyone next to them that would listen; the nattering complaints prompted by the day to day annoyances they all loved to hate in a city that demand you loved to hate it... When in New York, you gotta complain like a New Yorker. He could never describe to anyone who'd not lived there the civilized camaraderie this continuous complaining fostered within his neighbors, all these New Yorker. Obliged to share, everything, each annoying little hassle with each others, one upping, elevating and exaggerating... in a way the humor in it all did make it all the more worth it.
He started chatting with the first fella standing next to him, a big guy right beside him. A huge big bear of a fella in an odd for the weather brown vested three piece suit, bearded. This fella had gotten through somehow to the folks he'd meant to be meeting downtown and was sharing what little info they'd given him; pretty much more mass confusion; a description of what sounded like utter chaos. No one knowing what to do, nor what would come next... a near but mid-distant, louder than one would have expected explosion as the North Tower, that unfixable hole still burning, black dots dropping, letting go... falling... straight into what could best be described as a big billowing mushroom cloud of dust, dirt and still more dust one could imagine... as that once looming tower came down... utter terror... sheer panic... the seemingly longs since, now immediately over mesmerizing moment at once becoming, what the hell do we do? What the hell... what the hell were we all to do... now, shrieks, and loud shouting; he noticed the big bear of a fella, now his new friend. That big bear of a fella was almost crying... without even thinking he gave him a hug as the big bear, now seeming panic-stricken said "my friends are down there" and took off in some unknown direction... his own little boy, the one still inside him kicking madly and screaming to get even closer. Get down there, help out... over ruled, he started running in the better direction; to 7th Avenue, towards the makeshift office still vacant... the phone wasn't ringing, neither incoming nor out... no circuits... try after try he'd finally got through... "the second tower's down"... his then current girlfriend, herself now screaming, please meet me, come and help me... the next thing he knew, he was with her outside her office, just up from the backdoor of Macy's. Like everyone around them, scrambled searching inside themselves for, no context, no reference, for some plan, something, anything an idea for the next thing to do... the little boy inside him wanting to leave her with someone, head downtown to witness the action... they headed uptown, almost running.
They would never fix it, it was all over except not over for the rest of that day, the next weeks, months and year after year and year after too many years it would take for all of this bullshit, the towers, his then current girlfriend, everything in chaos to play itself out...
To be continued (or not, but more likely)
Yes, Maybe I Did Hear The Fucking Plane -|- How the Hell are We Ever Going to Fix This? -|- RUN! Walk... Sit, Roll Over... -|- [next story, unwritten] -|-
Again, we ask...Will "our hero" eventually find the god he's so not hotly in pursuit of? How the hell would I know... does this really sound like the place and time one would find, god? Until next time...