i give so much more than i get. i just haven’t met you yet.
i want to move to another country. now. 70% of americans think tsarnaev the 19 year old bombing sidekick should be put to the death penalty. he killed 3 people and injured 170. the bangladesh factory collapse killed over 1000 people and was the result of a greedy man putting profits over people. by this logic the very act of purchasing clothes made in bangladesh supports unsafe working environments. yet nobody associated with this, and especially not we the consumers are facing the death penalty. whereas that was a tenfold loss in human life.
Also, the cleveland kidnappings? it is chilling and horrifying as everyone says. but the neighbors claim to have “tried” by contacting the police at least three times. IN TEN YEARS?! they virtually did nothing to help.I’m not anti-American. I’m against the United States of Hypocrisy and No Mercy.
we love you levon. r.i.p.
500 butterfly wings
86 x 50 inches
I work at a music venue. Every night I leave, I pass by this homeless gentleman on the sidewalk, in a little store-front nook. He always has a Coca-Cola cup for change. Sometimes, like tonight he falls asleep sitting there. I don’t know his name and I haven’t talked to him, but I know he’s not crazy from the smiles and nods he gives me, and the look in his eyes. I have a dream that while he’s asleep I can place a huge giftwrapped box in front of him with a $1000 check inside with the memo: “Turn your life around. Love, The World”. Because I’ve given 5s, 10s, 20s to homeless people before, but really that’s just enough for their next pack of cigarettes, a six-pack or their next fix. If people could save that 5 or 10 and put it towards a big gift like that, they could actually make a difference in one person’s life. Now, it’s not saving the world, but one person’s life is ever-so important. He is not just a number and neither are you.
“Seeing him sing this without Marketa is the most heartbreaking thing…”
Agreed. ‘Tis the way of things.
you, left me. thats something i forget all too often. i wish i was to blame, because then, you see, i’d find it easy to be mad, be angry with myself. but you gave up. you gave in. and i don’t think there’s recompense for that. none that i know of. never again so quickly, so easily will i bid farewell to such a large part of my tattered heart. it’s all we’ve got and more often than not we can’t get those pieces back.