This is a very small fishbowl we all live in. Man throws a chicken bone out the kitchen window and a brick lands on his brother’s head. And then we all cry “Why me, Lord?” We use words like yours and mine and theirs and ours…like they mean something. To some people those words mean everything. But we’re all just rats fighting over the garbage, killing each other over something that’s gonna turn to shit anyway. The richest person among us is the one who looks at his neighbor, under the rags, under the scowl, under the addiction and sees himself.
(photo credit: Dean Zeller)