I’m angry. I’m depressed. I’m sickeningly lonely. And I see no answers, which is worse.

I’m angry because the Nazis in the White House have coopted this great tragedy to further their own oil-greased ends. Not only did they fail the American people by allowing this to happen, but now they’ve gone on a worldwide bullying rampage that, I fear, will only make things worse in the long run. That and they’ve missed no opportunity to clip the wings of freedom off every American that breathes, lest we actually wake up and gather the will to protest.

I’m depressed by the oppressively rainy weather, by the sad state of the world, and by all the grief of this anniversary being drilled into our brains by media and government. Hearing sound clips of those frantic phone calls in the moments before the buildings collapsed almost gave me a nervous breakdown.

I am also depressed because, particularly at a time like this, I am alone. Alone in my thoughts, and alone in deed. There simply isn’t anyone here. The world is a mess, my place is a mess and I’m a mess, and I just want to curl up into a little ball and go to sleep. So good night.

Being the megalomaniac that I am I often have to remind myself that when I notice something is wrong with everyone else except me, that generally means that I’m the one that’s messed up.

But occassionally I discover that it isn’t just me; the whole world is crazy.

So tonight I’m driving, trying to make my way home from work, and I’m noticing more vehicles buzzing past me at high speed, more people getting cut off ahead of me, more people running quasi-red lights, and a helluva lot more revving while stopped at traffic lights. Then it hits me: today is “Let’s Roll” Day’s Eve, and rednecks the whole town over are commemorating by showing all those evil terrorists hid among us here in the heartland that, had it just been us on those planes a year ago, we would’ve known exactly how to deal with their colleagues. We would’ve opened up a can of good ol’ US whoopass and… revved our engines at them. Yea, because we’re tough like that.

It wouldn’t surprise me to find out that our “indomitable character” was at least partly responsible for the two humongous auto accidents that blocked off both of the main roads that I use to get me home, effectively doubling the time it took me to make the trek back.

Get this: I sent myself a test e-mail, checking to make sure my main account was working. (The message arrived, about eight hours later.) But it’s never enough for me just to open a new message, address it, and hit “send.” No siree. I actually have to say something. This is what I said:

well today is just another monday, you know, long, slow, tedious, tiresome. i’m exhausted just from fighting the anxiety attack. hope your day’s swell!

Sorry about the huge splash page. It’s just, I felt that making the art much smaller wouldn’t do it justice. Hope it was worth your wait.

I love days like this. Late summer/early fall weather is perfect. The sun is high along its trayectory, shining brilliantly. Its strong light brings out detail and stark contrast in everything I can see. The sky is that piercing, crystalline blue that gladdens the heart. It’s hot, but not oppressive. It is ideal for doing exactly this, going for a walk in the city. I don’t have a particular destination: I’m just walking.

We haven’t met before. I would remember. She’s fairly tall and slender, with fun-looking, light-brown wavy hair and very large, expressive hazel eyes. Her skin is bronze and translucent, tinged with a faint, natural blush. She’s wearing some kind of white-colored clingy number. I feel a huge, stupid grin coming on. I suppress it. She doesn’t. I try to think why someone like Nina would be hurrying to catch up with me…

And then I wake up.