We're hopeless

I just talked to some friends, and I talked to others two days ago.

It's so bad.

One of my friends started crying.

"More than anything this is a mental war." The bombing is constant. Many people don't sleep at night. I only had to listen to those bombs for 9 days. Watching CNN I could hear the bombs in the background. That's what it was like.

And here I am, in a casino in Atlantic City. This survivor's guilt thing is really weird. I feel like it's a paler version of what I was feeling when my friend died. Like there's a blanket between me and the world. Actually, there are some people who I feel okay with. Maybe they were reading my blog. Or maybe they're from Lebanon. It's like those people get me--what I'm thinking about, where I mentally am. But all those other people walking around like normal; it's like I'm not even really interacting with them. I feel guilty every time I'm not thinking about it, or on the computer doing some work, or on the phone with my Lebanese friends or other people trying to do something to make something happen.

How ridiculous to be talking on the phone on the casino floor with those annoying dingy noises from the slot machines talking to people who feell like they're in prison. They can't move; no petrol.

But today two of my friends seemed hopeful--with this moving 15,000 Lebanese troops to South Lebanon. Maybe there's an end in sight.

But these solutions are crap, and aren't going to work.