I then hang my head in shame, because at a time like this, all I can think about are crude jokes about blowjobs.

I couldn’t possibly pretend to know any of the answers. In fact, all I can offer are the words that I first heard in one of the Batman movies. Some men just like to watch the world burn.

But then I talk to my friends, the ones who went to high school with the terrorist. He was a normal, funny kid, they tell me. He liked his family. He liked practical jokes. He liked weed. Nobody knows what to say. The Jahar they knew isn’t a terrorist. He’s a classmate, a friend, a prom date. Terrorists don’t share bio notes.

Of course, we all know that Jahar, too, graduated high school in 2011. I can only imagine what his former classmates are going through. Who in my high school could be a terrorist? I can’t even begin to entertain that train of thought. We all went to prom. We all shared bio notes.

And so I sit here now, as the wee hours of the morning heralding the rising of the sun, and look at a screen filled with words. And I can’t quite decide what I want to say.

It’s been a long week.

Jacob R. Drucker ‘15, a Crimson editorial writer, is an economics concentrator in Mather House.