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The pictures in your Flickr stream bothered my mom so much - all those nosebleeds, the roadkill funerals, the meat display case at the grocery store, screaming babies in strollers at theme parks. She hired a social worker to check up on us. I tried explaining to the guy that it is winter, it’s just seasonal, but his diagnosis was a vitamin deficiency and clinically low levels of intention and courage.
The guy is a miner. He shakes out the more willful moments from our better, more sober selves until he’s satisfied with the number of 10k charity runs we’ve sign up for, or hours we’ve committed to tutoring to inner city youth, and have confessed enough of our hopes and dreams and wishes to the little seeds we plant in the ground.
