i'm always naked
i looked up into the air, deadly sins and over seized dreams hanging uncommonly low. i looked to you, your gaze a desperate air of emotional turmoil. you couldnt quite understand what had happened, how you had grown into something you didnt quite recognize; hands that were weak with decay and feet that collapsed inwardly. you felt broken and lost and scared all at once. and thats when it happened. slowly you sunk back into yourself, slowly you faded from the world and took your hopes and faults and passions with you. it was all so terrible. it was all so fast. and all i did was watch as it consumed you, as love and rage burned into one and all that was left was the deathly peak of silence.

Child, Mykonos, Greece on Flickr.
Self-portrait, St. Andrews, Scotland on Flickr.
We need individual stories. Without individuals we see only numbers” a thousand dead, a hundred thousand dead, ‘causalities may rise to a million’. With individual stories, the statistics become people - but even that is a lie, for the people continue to suffer in numbers that themselves are numbing and meaningless.
Neil Gaiman, American Gods
myborderland:

Alicia Franco.
No man, proclaimed Donne, is an Isladn, and he was wrong. If we were not islands, we would be lost, drowned in each other’s tragedies. We are insulated (a word that means, literally, remember, made into an island) from the tragedy of others, by our island nature, and by the repetitive shape and form of the stories. We know the shape, and the shape does not change. There was a human being who was born, lived, and then, by some means or other, died. There. You may fill in the details from your own experience. As unoriginal as any other tale, as unique as any other life. Lives are snowflakes - unique in detail, forming patterns we have seen before, but as like one another as peas in a pod (and have you ever looked at peas in a pod? I mean, really looked at them? Theres not a chance you’d mistake one for another, after a minute’s close inspection.)
Neil Gaiman, American Gods
Bloom by Once upon a time in Alex land..(Alexandra Cameron) on Flickr.
Feeding Birds, St. Marks Square, Venice on Flickr.