If I could honestly reply to the 911 rage... I would.
Only thing being... on that day I was calling the police
to come and take this craa--zy man away.
I got a call from the kids.
I needed to get some money together for Western Union.
It was raining like rappers on twenties and my
windsheild wipers just up and quit.
And 'two' people called in on the job.
Had to pick up a couple of prescriptions...
(along with ten other people).
As bad as it was raining, I guess, we all waited
'til the last minute for refills.
Every where I went and everyone I talked with
asked and talked about the Towers.
I caught bits and pieces... here and there.
I was so overwhelmed by the media and all...
it was just me, Maxwell and Missy for days.
I don't know how I felt that day
or the ones right afterwards...
life had already put my on the 'prayer roll'.
I don't know if the every day stress
of living pay check-to-pay check,
the car needing work 'today'
and the kids money 'today'
and being stalked by an ex-boyfriend,
allowed me to do anything else but pray...
I feel for those that were so instantly evolved into poverty...
families so instantly falling apart.
I prayed they get paid (and soon), enough to save, help,
and keep them from swelling an ever growing people,
who are really 'trying'to excel
and provide an adequate means of living
with ever-increasing odds against us 'all'.
Maybe if....I was...'here'.
Maybe if I wasn't hurting so much... already.