Grandpa, Will You Still Love Me When You Die? – Life
there aren’t many boundaries in chats with a four-year-olds
there aren’t many boundaries in chats with a four-year-olds
Grandson 1 showed me a lump on his forehead next morning — he blamed me because I threw it, I blamed him because he didn't catch it, and it was right there. We both laughed. Okay hurt happens, but it’s a good hurt.
The puppeteers (press, politicians, ideologues) pull our strings, fuel our rage, invite blame and ill-considered aggression against innocents and the weak. Who are these manipulators? Must they go unchallenged?
These two year olds demonstrate fundamental truths. Would Parliament benefit from such an idea?
Fearful Heart? “Oh how wrong we were to think immortality meant never dying” Gerard Way [if you want to skip the intro, the poem starts with a centred heading "Long…
I listen, silent; smacked across the face by the stark terror in his voice