Secret Weapon Labs

I write this 11 minutes to midnight NYC-time with the thought of how so many things changed just five, seemingly short, years ago. We all became slaves to televisions and anything, literally anything, that held good news as a glimmer of light in a valley of darkness.

I have lived all of my days in NYC, and I have never felt that I existed in a small town. NYC swirls you in the vicious circle of its energy and those who really enjoy this city can’t and don’t resist that energy, but nor do they get sucked into it. Like falling down a mountain, don’t tighten your body and try to stop, but don’t keep rolling on down. Thats how most people generally keep a sense of who they are and how to exist. It’s generally a quality most people from smaller towns and smaller cities manage to keep in perspective. September 12th was the first day I can ever remember NYC feeling like a small place. A place where suddenly the sweeping energy had receded into the shadows and smoke. And suddenly everyone looked and I mean EVERYONE looked at you as you walked by. You could read minds because you would think the same thing. “Am I alive? Is this a ghost before me? They look beautiful, human, flush with color, and like they were once happy. Maybe I’m not dreaming. Maybe they can one day be happy again. Thus, I must find out. There’s only one way… Let me say it:”

“… Hello”

It was the first time I ever remember city-dwellers being not jaded into rushing to and fro and pausing. Pausing to look you in the eye and say hello. It happened to me countless times and is something I won’t ever forget. I attached to it the meaning that we were once again tactile and human, looking to experience the simplest sensation that there was someone else who was real, and that this person, whomever it was, had also endured the surreal.

I celebrate in public but I grieve in sorrow, and here I will only celebrate those who had the courage and dignity to rush into the tallest burning building they could have ever imagined and fought every natural human instinct to turn around. But I’m inviting you, to share your story. Everyone has one. I would love to hear yours. Please post your own story in the comments…

UPDATE:
John Mayer’s latest album released today has the song entitled Belief.  I highly recommend the album. The lyrics are below:

BELIEF
Is there anyone who
Ever remembers changing their mind from
The paint on a sign?
Is there anyone who really recalls
Ever breaking rank at all
For something someone yelled real loud one time

Everyone believes
In how they think it ought to be
Everyone believes
And they’re not going easily

Belief is a beautiful armor
But makes for the heaviest sword
Like punching under water
You never can hit who you’re trying for

Some need the exhibition
And some have to know they tried
It’s the chemical weapon
For the war that’s raging on inside

Everyone believes
From emptiness to everything
Everyone believes
And no one’s going quietly

We’re never gonna win the world
We’re never gonna stop the war
We’re never gonna beat this
If belief is what we’re fighting for

What puts a hundred thousand children in the sand?
Belief can.
Belief can.
What puts the folded flag inside his mother’s hand?
Belief can.
Belief can.