This was my post on the 12th of September 2008. It was a belated 9/11 memory post.
You know, about 9/11
2,975 died out of 17,400 in the building.
That's 20%.
Rest in peace.
And thank God for those that survived.
I heard somewhere (I think it was in church), about what happened on that day.
There were testimonials everywhere after that, when people started telling about how they had been caught up in traffic that day, or their cars wouldn't start, or they got held up in some way, so they weren't at the World Trade Center when the planes crashed into it.
Why did so many have to die?
And why did the survivors survive when they did, while others died?
I'll get back to you on that. I need to find answers and somehow I will.
You know what?
Maybe when it's someone's "time" to die, it really is.
Maybe they've done all they can and all they want to in this world. Or maybe if they want to do more, so much more, it might not have led to anything, or it might not have brought happiness.
When it's someone's "time" to die, it would mean that they have accomplished everything that they were supposed to do; it must mean that.
And that means that those people are extraordinary.
I'll probably end up working for a newspaper when I graduate.
I'm good at coming up with things on short notice that are halfway passable.
At this point I feel like posting the comments I got for my RMUN "diagnosis" article that we were supposed to submit during the second briefing (which had nothing to do with politics at all), but I shouldn't.
--
For all interested,
I have a bruise on my arm, just below the wrist. It's greenish-yellow. It doesn't really hurt.
--
I had three hiccup fits yesterday.
Once half an hour before dinner, another five minutes after dinner, and another half an hour after dinner.
--
For the people who read my blog, how do you think I would fare as a newspaper writer?
And oh, interestingly enough, my brother just signed up for the editorial club/team/posse/thing in his school. From what I know, it's not like the editorial CCA in our school that apparently doesn't have formal meetings and therefore has zero attendance.
And oh, he failed English this term.
He's Primary 4.
--
For those seeking specific information as to what has been keeping me away from school these past few days, it is apparently a viral infection, affecting the inner ear.
This took about thirty seconds for the doctor to diagnose, after hearing me complain weakly about my symptoms, and after peering down my pharynx and prodding me with a stethoscope.