Homeless to Harvard
People die. Things decay. Everything that seems so solid is meaningless. All thats left is the gestures we make. Gestures and air. Thats what we remember…we remember what we choose.
I loved my mother. SO much, I mean, she was a drug addict, she was an alcoholic, she was legally blind, she was a schizophrenic. But I never forgot that she did loved me, even if she did all the time.
