They found someone I knew dead in a hotel today. We weren’t close friends, yet someone I accepted into my life further out on the fringes. He came to my fiftieth birthday gathering, and I’d known him for some nine years or so. There weren’t long periods where we didn’t at the least chat. He was a broken man, a broken person if you were. His ability to accept the life he had, never settled with him. Brilliant in ways, stunted in practical means of adjusting to whatever possessed him. Life can be so fragile in that sense.
Humanity must feel the cries of its people. Closeness to the hearts of those around us gives relief to the suffering within them. Leaders carry the strength for the weak, absent of complaints and disgust. These roles are defined in our early existence from the morality gleaned as we rise to acknowledge the self, we struggle to adjust to, for the remainder of these lives, we share.
Separating the differences from our fathers and mothers…praying for better from sons and daughters. Rations of love and compassion just enough to quench our fears…without overflowing to fully nurture all lives. It just feels like there should be more than enough for everyone…