Go ahead.
Tell me you're having a bad day.
Tell me about the traffic, tell me about your boss. Tell me about the job you've been trying to quit for the past four years, tell me that the morning is a townhouse burning to the ground, tell me that the snooze button is a fire extinguisher, tell me that the alarm clock stole the keys to your smile,
tell me,
tell me,
tell me, how blessed we are to have tragedies that are so small, they can fit on the tips of our tongues.
You see, when Evan lost his legs, he was speechless.
When my cousin was assaulted, she didn't speak for fourty eight hours.
When my uncle was murdered, we had to send out a search party to find my father's voice.
Most people have no idea that tragedy and silence have the exact same address.
("Complainers" Rudy Francisco)
seafoam*
beyondsanity
Keyboardfreak898