As I sit here and type this, its been…oh…4 weeks since Hurricane or Super storm or whatever they’re calling Sandy struck. It’s been hard. Hard for me, harder still for others.
I…for the longest time have feared this day would come. Some called me a disaster prophesier, some said I was being paranoid. If only you knew how right I wanted them to be. To see what I’ve seen, what I’ve heard in the past few weeks…defies logic and reason. I’ve seen untold devastation and unimaginable horror, all within a relatively small island. This is not to say the rest of the region is unaffected…
The Wednesday night after the storm I finally made my way to a working TV at my friends firehouse, and finally got a visual on what I’d up that point only been hearing via radio. It was worse then I imagined. Far worse. Whole cities, towns…absolutely torn apart. These sights have been repeated in person as I’ve toured the island. I don’t think you can really grasp how bad it is through a tv report or even a photograph…
To say Staten Island is devastated would be understating the obvious. To say that we need help would be an even greater understatement. The island has been completely turned inside out. Our once proud and growing beachfront is all but a memory. Beachfront communities have been completely erased.
I have this fear that it may stay that way. This island…for the longest time has been associated with an acceptance of cynicism of sorts. We’ve accepted that we are forgotten and most people try to leave, yet those that don’t seemingly never accept anything that can improve their lives…that being said, what has been destroyed by Sandy…could stay that way due to the mindset of “why rebuild it if another storm will just knock it over again?” which in turn will leave things to rot and crumble and forever stay that way. I’m almost in that mindset too, and I hate it.
This storm was unlike anything I’ve ever been through. That night, as I sat, alone on my living room floor…power was going in and out. The house was shaking, creaking…power transformers were exploding in front of the house, lines going down, wind howling, trees were going down all over, I thought for sure a tree would come into the house, or onto the house or the wind would blow the roof off…I sat there and I thought “this is it. I’m going to die. Alone.” And I was just…it…its an unsettling thought to be confronted with my own mortality…it was scary honestly. To get down to the basics, it was utterly terrifying. I didn’t want to die. I still don’t, but that night…I thought for sure I was going to. Sure I’d always say jokingly things like “this is the end”, but this time, for sure, I thought it was. And I still don’t know how to deal with it. My life didn’t flash before me like some people say it does. It was just…moments of fear. Fear because I had no control over anything, fear because I was alone, fear because honestly I’m not happy with the way my life has been going.
I asked myself; “Is this as good as it gets?” I’m 30, single, broke, mostly jobless, and going for a degree that many consider to be pointless. So again, I ask myself, Is this as good as it gets? I try and I try to get better, but 30 year olds with a learning disability and a penchant for being a dreamer don’t always win, doesn’t always get the girl or score the winning touchdown…its not all sunshine and happiness. It’s hard. And it’s tiring. And I can’t help but wonder, has the lackadaisical cynicism from this island has seeped into me?
I generally try to find happiness with anything, find that silver lining, that piece of hope, but everywhere I look lately I see destruction, horror and just sadness. It’s hard to find hope. You can see it in the way people walk. People have a gray-ashen look to them.
This is not September 11th. This…in some ways…is a bit worse…or maybe its not. It’s different. It’s not one small part of the city. This affected the whole city. It impacted many lives and will do so for a long time to come. This isn’t something we can just bounce back from in a few months. This isn’t something the government can mess around with and leave sitting there while they squabble, this is something that needs to be addressed soon, otherwise it will define us, and honestly I’m tired of being defined by tragedy and terrible things. For the longest time, it’s been, for this island, defined by a damn a garbage dump. Not parkland, pizza, families and mom and pop stores as it should be…no, one stupid piece of land, and it sickens me. And what do we get after that? A TV show that of course picks up on the worst and the dumbest, not the best and the brightest.
You see, that’s my life too. For the longest time, I’ve been defined, by some, in a bad way as weak, inattentive, and too much of a dreamer. I have been singled out as too focused on what I want and enjoy, and been mocked, ridiculed and taken endless hours of shit for it, and ya know what? I’m tired of it, and I honestly don’t care anymore. If I’m known for something, I just want it to be something that I view as good, something I think can better the world, and if I’m considered a dreamer for it, then good. At least I have dreams.