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A broken person has value in the pieces that make them.

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Japanese artist Akira Nagaya creates insanely intricate paper cuttings called kirie that look like delicate pencil drawings or wire sculptures.

http://www.boredpanda.com/kirie-sasabaran-paper-cutting-art-akira-nagaya/

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Search the web, save the environment!

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And ya talk about emotions. Emoshunal resonaance, Hollyweird hogwash. Spit in my eye and call it rain. I dun trust a fool who says he’s wise. I trust what’s kep me alive all these years, ma heart, ma deep, dusty, jingo jango pumper.

We humans touch ‘n feel and love. We crush ourselves with love. We take on a world for da sake of our gilded one. We can’t open our eyes if theyse ain’t there no mo. That heart pain, tha brooding, bubbling swamp making all dat racket in swollen chests. Dunno. May be I dunno Pleistocene from plaster but I know what’s important in this life, this dimension. All da wrenching, aching, sloppy drooling mad sick pup onna pig’s ear kinda affection. Render a genius into a fool. Tender me into mumbling mush.

I give it up, I lay myself upon the crossroads and let tha vultures of Eros devour my soul until bellies be full and plenty. Little nougat centers for dem partial pixies come knocking on my Winnebago. Door’s open since ma lady’s passing, too old to be choosy on a new nellie in such a cold world. Heart sick and brain dumb but I keep chooglin’, I resist the bitter venom flowin’ from that harsh society, the cold and icy world all seem to be clamorin’ for these days. Popular ones, pretty and posh, apathy is de rigeur as it would seem. The less you care the better you are, the sexier you is.

The idol is tha empty-eyed gargoyle turning to stone. We shouldn’t want that for any of us, to be a hollow husk skulking along the lonely road, doomed marriages and fake fronts. Surgery and dental work but the smile ain’t genuine. I sees that devil message, that user abuser don’t come any closer attitude people have nowadays. Eyes be on the gadgets but phone don’t hug back. Lectronics a godsend but warmth is what we need. That compassion of a bygone era. May be I sees it here and there; a stranger help with da trolley, a tire fixer, kind words for troubled yout, somethin’ that take me back and ease ma mind. Where dis world goin’ I dun know. All I see issa golden path losing it’s glitter. Misty eyes, kind heart, I take my virtues to ma grave, don no one rob me of dat truth, dat warmth inside us all. Believe dat!

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Number One Spot - Hip Hop BeBop Junction: Tonight

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I am a foolhardy man and a nervous women battling for supremacy in the mental realm.