03.11.02 :: 9:26 am

Can't even begin with the diaryland conference of ages that occurred this weekend, but suffice it to say: "rock" and "woo!"

Now I sit and ponder the meaning of my seemingly directionless life on March 11th, six months to the day that some possessed lunatics plowed two jetliners into my backyard.

And tonight, off to look at the turning on of the towers of light, from high up on the hill in Jersey.

It will be the second unreal view of a disfigured skyline. The city's ghost limbs.

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