Found this young man leaning against a tree in Boston Commons, writing in a notebook: “It’s sort of hip hop, sort of poetry,” he said.
I asked him if I could photograph a page.
I pray for peace, I search for love,
I hope you hear me out cuz no one ever does;
we gotta stick together all we got is us;
we can’t stop the negative unless we
spread the peace and love;
Step outside of self, step into the world; notice
how everything we do affects the future boys and girls;
hate crimes happen every damn day;
got my momz scared
my sister can’t go out to play,
because her fear is that some psycho
feels like snatching kids today
all these damn police but people still ain’t feeling safe;
Why does it take a tragedy to bring people
together; we know its bound to happen,
we should try to stay that way forever;
now this is not to say I’m better;
but at a young age I learned that birds fly together;
it’s a survival tactic and I suggest we use it
let’s come together, as we spread the peace
and love music
In the upper right corner, are the names of the first two victims of the bombing. “I wrote them first for inspiration,” he said.
I found that every single successful person I’ve ever spoken to had a turning point and the turning point was where they made a clear, specific, unequivocal decision that they were not going to live like this anymore. Some people make that decision at 15 and some people make it at 50 and most never make it at all.
If you can’t laugh together in bed, the chances are you are incompatible, anyway. I’d rather hear a girl laugh well than try to turn me on with long, silent, soulful, secret looks. If you can laugh with a woman, everything else falls into place.
You will be stupid. You will worry your parents. You will question your own choices, your relationships, your jobs, your friends, where you live, what you studied in college, that you went to college at all… If that happens, you’re doing it right.