What if it’s not the media
What if the problem is us
They just give us what we want
That’s their job
Isn’t it?
Maybe it’s not them
Stillness
Stillness The waves crumble And roll towards the shore A trade ship passes In the distance The wind blows the palm leaves And the sun sets Only the rock is still Stillness An admirable trait The ability to refrain From moving this way or that Subject to the...




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