It’s good to know that after 9/11 there’s 9/12.

In 1969, my father took me out of bed to watch the first man setting foot on the moon. I was seven, the images have never left me. It became one of those moments one simply can’t forget. In 1989 I saw te Berlin wall being taken down by the people and I cried of joy. On 9/11 in 2001, I watched the attacks on the World Trade Center in New York, full color on tv. I cried again. The images of that horrendous day are engraved in my memory. They will always be there. In the past ten years the world has changed for the worse and freedom has crumbled just like the two towers. The world, my life and your life, has never been the same. Just like in the lives of my parents history has crawled into mine and anchored itself in my memory. The good and the bad. I have not experienced war physically but I have seen more war in front of my eyes than most other people in previous generations. I am, like everyone nowadays, a child of the television generation. I’m build and broken by images invading my mind, my memory and my emotions. In the past few days there was no escape from the repeated images of that sunny September day in 2001 and although I didn’t want to I could not prevent myself from watching it all over again with the same horror as ten years ago.

Still, I suppose only New Yorkers can express the true emotion behind it all. This is such a man giving a new and deeper meaning to a song he wrote long, long time ago. It’s good to realize that after 9/11 there is a 9/12 and a 9/13 and onwards where we can live to cherish the world and not be afraid of the dark.

Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

“Fools”, said I, “You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you”
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls”
And whispered in the sounds of silence

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