What Else Is There To Say?

I saw the footage of Pass Christian on the news last night. Or rather, what was left of Pass Christian. I heard the man tell the reporter how he pulled his life-long friend's body out of the rubble. My stomach hasn't really stopped hurting since then.

I saw a street in New Orleans that I remembered walking down when I was there back in 2001, weaving in and out of record shops and book stores. No living thing can walk down that street the way it looks right now. I remember standing on the Riverwalk and looking down into the Mississippi River lapping up against the levee, and then looking way, waaay down to the city streets on the opposite side. I remember at that moment trying to imagine what this city would look like if its bowl-like structure were to fill with water all the way up to that levee's edge.

Seeing so much loss makes me feel guilty for just having so much of what I have. Even the roof over my own head. Makes me feel helpless for not being able to give or do more, and when I feel this helpless all I feel like doing is just... crying.

Sorry, you guys. Just really, really sorry.