eyes wide open, big heart inside, believes in her God, unaware of the demon, ventures into the world, very eager to love, wants to marry settle down, goes about life, gets a good education, hopes to meet another, reads the papers and news, fills her with ideas new, so much she believes, taints her outlook and choices, wants to be with the fashion, doesn’t want to stand out, acquires the habits of others, weakens her faith, acquires bias and judges, distances herself from God, eventually she’s unrecognizable, a stranger in her life, she didn’t do anything wrong, the influences that surrounded her, it’s that easy to lose yourself, and get it all wrong,now she gets it, the basic girl blues, amen.
brightest bookstore on earth
Carturesti Carusel (“Carousel of Light”) is a breathtaking new bookstore that opened earlier this month in the heart of Bucharest, Romania. Designed by Square One, the bookstore is located inside a beautifully restored 19th century building.
The 1,000 sq. m (10,760 sq. ft) retail space is situated on six floors and features over 10,000 books, 5,000 albums and DVDs and a top floor bistro. The main floor and basement feature a contemporary art gallery and media space and will also be used for cultural events and concerts.
[via Bored Panda]
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No one was listening to him accept joey, the dealer, his new friend, was a choice between being undermined at home or heard elsewhere, what do you do, your young and want to have a go at life, your very impressionable, so is the porn industry, i’d like to be a model, but there is money in that, he watches as he is told, they invite him into the company, he’s one of the big one’s now, and very innocent, what’s that your taking, he wants to be one of them, there is nothing going on at home, his mother can’t cope with her father, not that he’s around that much, he needed nurture that never arrived, so what he decides, the needle is filled, he gets violently sick but feels fine after, utopia of a type you can’t describe, the world is beautiful he decides, just needs a little bit more…why would anyone deal in death…
wisdom for those storm bound!
“The wrath to come.” — Mat 3:7
It is pleasant to pass over a country after a storm has spent itself; to smell the freshness of the herbs after the rain has passed away, and to note the drops while they glisten like purest diamonds in the sunlight. That is the position of a Christian. He is going through a land where the storm has spent itself upon his Saviour’s head, and if there be a few drops of sorrow falling, they distil from clouds of mercy, and Jesus cheers him by the assurance that they are not for his destruction. But how terrible is it to witness the approach of a tempest: to note the forewarnings of the storm; to mark the birds of heaven as they droop their wings; to see the cattle as they lay their heads low in terror; to discern the face of the sky…
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Slow burn is all the more painful, as the heart withers slowly, prefer a fast hit like the others, wants to get over the pain, young child can’t handle it anymore, takes the syringe and understands what it’s for, the promise and the prayers unanswered, tired of all the clichés and excuses, doesn’t care gets into trouble, what do you say to a small beaming child, whose brought delight to the world, do you push them till they break, the demon and his coterie of friends do it everyday, destroy so much of what is beautiful, while the believers watch the clouds rather than the person ahead, time for God Most High to root up more weeds, too much damage too many days passed, the bruises clear the hurt so near, St. Peter what is going on, the small voices are crying out can’t you hear them, Solomon was in a rush, a melody of prayers came into his head, he’d seen another abandoned child another dream destroyed, the Holy Angels were getting the push as far as he was concerned, amen….
guitar lesson from one of the best
“I look at you all, see the love there that’s sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps”
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I wanted to do something. I felt helpless as I sat in the backseat. My legs couldn’t yet reach the floor board, my pockets were empty of all but a scuffed up Hot Wheel toy car. But I wanted to do something.
It was the first time I’d seen someone begging for food.
The seconds ticked by while we sat at the stop light. I studied him and wondered what it must be like to be him. I saw tattered clothes, I saw a worn face. I watched as he stared straight ahead, meeting no one’s eyes. Letting his roughly scrawled sign do all the talking.
And suddenly we were off, on our way. Off to do some destination so inconsequential I can’t remember it.
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