"...what’s different about the Glorietta blast, in the reactions and confessions and the dozens of entries in blogs all over the Internet, is the uniform mix of fear and relief. There is no forgetting this one. The words that are repeated, in murmurs and whispers down the alleyways of cyberspace are the same. It could have been my brother. It could have been my boyfriend. It could have been my mother. It could have been me." (Patricia Evangelista)
It was terrible. The justifiable paranoia whether someone I know and love was there, was mortifying. Unimaginable. The place is dear to me. We have supper there almost every day of the work week. I thought they were keeping us safe all the time? There’s no longer any sense of safety—it happened in a mall, that safe haven of the 21st century. Safe? We don’t know what that means anymore.
Let us pray for the dead and wounded, and peace for all the souls that have been scarred by this horrid event. This is serious shit, people. Pay attention.