These are the images that were released earlier this evening by the British Police.
"Everything honest and true: our careers, relationships, and families... flourishes as part of the graceful fearless strides we take. I hope in the face of fear our courage can define us. I hope we can continue gracefully strident, without descending into divisiveness and terror. Somehow we must remain free and strong."
As I mentioned in an earlier comment reply, I have never previously seen so many police on the streets as I noticed today. I had no idea London even had that many police. I find it so sad, because, unlike two weeks ago, we are not consumed with the determination to continue on unhindered. Instead, we are all dealing with the fact that our lives appear to have permanently changed, and attacks like these could well become a constant feature of our day to day experiences in the city.
The faces of these men tell a story. They obviously seem panicked and confused. But, they do not strike me as the type who could have together masterminded such an attack. They appear to be very different people. The young man in the first picture does not seem like someone you would naturally expect to spend time with the man in the last. The way they dress makes me think they come from completely different regions in the UK. Who brought these men together like this???
Last night was a low point for me since I've been back in the UK. I was very emotional, for reasons other than the attempted attack, although it certainly played its part. My sister, after all, lives two miles away from the failed explosion in Hackney, and frequently uses public transport.
But, more so, in light of some recent personal events, outside of the above situation, I feel irrevocably scarred. Sometimes I think maturity, and growing older is simply the way bitterness, and hurt eventually seperates us from our heart. I spent some time with a friend of mine this morning and her little kid... and it was absolutely stunning/amazing/wonderful/beautiful. I remember being a pretensious eighteen year old convinced intellectually it would be a dire act to introduce a human life into this terrible world... and yet, right now, I can think of nothing that would bring me greater joy than to be surrounded by that kind of honesty, and purity everyday of my life.
I think of my friends that get to go home and experience their families filled by that love, happiness, charm, and joy each evening and night, and every morning they wake up... they are IMO the luckiest souls alive.
To have someone you live for beyond any selfish designs, and beyond the ease of self destruction. This little baby goes around with his mum, my friend, all day to horse stables, and cafes, and shops, and so on (his mum is quite the social butterfly) and he just brings a smile to every single person he encounters. How can you not look at his cute little face and funny little expressions and feel something real and beautiful inside.
There are lots of reasons why I feel disappointed in myself at the moment. A sense of self is perpetually in a state of re-alignment as our briefly indulged grandiose pretensions get eviscerated by harshness of real life... until, of course, we resurrect them all over again.
I'm done with that. As Nick Hornby wrote in "High Fidelity," I'm not the greatest guy in the world, but I'm not the worst. I don't know everything, but I have something to say that matters. And no, I don't send shivers down every gals spine when I walk into a room. And no, I'm not god's gift to the female sex :(.
You have to be able to fundamentally be ok with yourself to move on from pain in a healthy way. I don't want to be stunned off my feet every time I feel something, in between month long emotionless interludes. And that's a journey I have to start taking. I have to live with my mistakes, not hide from them. I want to retain an open heart, and rediscover generosity and care for the people I love, of which I've had very little recently to provide. Like I said, "let go, jump in," and all that good stuff.
After finishing my work tonight I compiled some writing clipings, put them together with novel proposals and wrote an introductory email to literary agents and publishers. I'd been meaning to do it for months. I've already started receiving automated replies informing me of proper submission procedures... but, at least I got around to trying. If I get one response from which I can ask questions and broaden my understanding of how the industry functions, I'll be better equipped to succeed in some fashion. I just started reading "Cosmopolis," by Don Delillo, which I've adored thus far... the rhythm and poetry to each paragraph Delillo writes is so sublime, and his perceptions so broad and meaningful... and in my heart, I know writing is what I want to pursue above any other potential career, as much as other alternatives appear easier from time to time.
Anyway, off to get some well needed sleep.