...
We could contemplate contrast....
We could be poor in Havana or poor in America.
The thing that nails me SO hard about the linked image is the memory of the woman I met in Battle Mountain, Nevada. She was the clerk at a self-service gas station. I don't remember where she was from, but I remember this was the look on her face. It's from having fallen in love with someone who was going to change your life into hell and you spend a little time being positive about it until, slowly, the reality of your seemingly complete inability to get yourself out starts to sink in.
At the time I met her, I was wrecked myself, beyond the beyond wrecked, but spent some days being wrecked for her after that brief encounter. I think I was clear to Whitefish, Montana by the time my own agony took back over from her epic mistake.
pipe up any time....
