jim walsh has spent the past day listening to U2’s “peace on earth.”

i’ve had elton john’s “empty garden” on repeat for the past two days. written about another new york tragedy, the death of john lennon, the words seem to fit the events that transpired yesterday.

“what happned here as the new york sunset disappeared, i found an empty garden amongst the flagstones there . . .”

also on repeat, “confetti” by the lemonheads. i know it’s goofy. but it’s my nightmare calming song. it just seems too appropriate lately.

it’s all just still so heavy. weighing down my heart and eyelids. my body’s immediate reaction to any sort of tragedy is sleep. it’s like my brain decides it can’t handle anymore and puts me to sleep. weird.

the tv has been avoided most of the day. i popped in briefly to listen to colin powell and then quickly left. i know tonight will end much like my day began. sitting on the couch, wrapped in the black-hole sun blanket, a cat or two on my lap, tears streaming down my face.

it never ceases to amaze me how many tears my eyes can hold. just when i think i cannot let loose another drop, a fresh torrent surprises me.

after all those years as a newspaper reporter, i’d think i would be more jaded, used to such tragedy. but still, the news makes me cry. that’s why i became a corporate whore, i am not tough enough to handle the terrors that plague us. my get up and go, got up and left.

now, i am off– to leftover pasta and the tv. it’s weird, life without otto. i have to write things down now, with paper and pen. my sole form of communcation upon my arrival home is the telephone.

weird.

life is a weird, strange adventure. tomorrow, i will smile. that is my goal. easy, right?