The news is raving about the Zimmerman/Martin verdict and honestly it’s the last thing I want to hear about during my 30 minute dinner break. But it’s on every channel, and everyone’s Facebook page, and I cannot escape it.
I think that some of you have really fucking ignorant opinions or justifications or whatever.
To be honest, I don’t care if Zimmerman tutored children in his spare time. Or if
you do or don’t think white privilege applies to him because he was only half white.
And I don’t know why you are seemingly trying to justify the character of someone who you don’t know, never will, and who probably doesn’t give a rats ass about you. The fact of the matter is that a 17 year old is dead. A seventeen year old who was unarmed. A seventeen year old who was shot 70 yards from the house where he was staying because he allegedly “looked suspicious”. And George Zimmerman walked? Seriously?
Just committed to being in Ghana
for one whole year. I think it might be the best decision I’ve ever made regardless of whether I do or don’t like my time there. I’m nervous.
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“Every single day after that first bad one is a reminder. You can never go back to the way things were before. I didn’t think a date coming back would affect me at all…but it’s like my body remembers and my mind is experiencing it all over again. I don’t understand what healing is supposed to be like. Sometimes I feel like once you have experienced a certain amount of pain - of devastating, ground-shaking, life killing pain - you never stop hurting. And you’re left open to the pain and terror of the whole world. I never have gotten my heart back, and the pain isn’t going away any time soon. But that’s just fine. THERE IS NO ABSOLUTION IN HEALING. There will never be a time when I will sit in the sun and not think about [Harrison or Evelyn]. There will never be a time when I hear Alex Murdoch’s song “something beautiful” or do a thousand other things and not think about [Harrison or Evelyn]. And there shouldn’t be. To me, healing doesn’t mean I won’t hurt anymore. Healing means being able to breathe when I make a pot of coffee. And being able to remember what heaven feels like, even though I can’t find it anymore.”
This is paraphrased from an article by Angela Adams. This is almost EXACTLY what my mothers death feels like/felt like. And actually reading what seems like my thoughts from someone else’s viewpoint has affected me in an interesting way.
Photo reblogged from A Head full of Diamonds With Shoes filled of Stone with 103,877 notes
Krog TunnelN ATL
I can’t believe they are doing this. Way to destroy all the character.
I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. And I keep thinking that I would give anything for a day spent with you. ANYTHING.
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Yesterday, my parents would have celebrated 24 years of marriage. Almost a quarter of a century. I wonder though, if they would still have been married.
The people that live next to me are REALLY loud (both in speech and in music). Maybe my walls are just really thin.
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