I lived in New Orleans about seven or eight years ago. It was the most beautiful city I had ever seen. I fell in love immediately with the city and it's people. I still don't know why I ever left, seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I have spent the last years missing it terribly, but not being able to afford to go back. This past week and a half I have spent in grief mixed with rage. I have cried, railed, and spent my nights mentally walking the streets of the only city that I ever felt at home in. My heart breaks to think it will never be the same again. I have not been able to watch the news. I can't bear to hear the media talk about those wonderful people as though they were animals for merely trying to survive in a desperate situation. This country has not even begun to imagine the depth of the loss it has sustained. The beauty, the culture, the music, and the people of this city are unlike anything else America has to offer. I mourn.