Tiled floor halls and long distance calls, screaming at walls and fist fight brawls People who are rude, adjusting attitude, melancholy moods and things that seem crude, hospital food and a large family feud music, headphones, sitting in rooms all alone, hate that is sewn and all the wild emotions…

NFL

I had it set as my bacgorund picture but mysteriously somehow it vanisehd, just life in UT.

Through many tears and cries, and days and nights of asking why’s I’ve found that no matter bad or good, the following mornings the sun still flys But yet, no matter how hard I try to forget the pain of other peoples lies, I see it still every time I close my eyes Kind words, the weapons of enemies in disguise, the times when the only meals I could afford were anything but supersize Yet still amid all the lows and highs, I’ve dreamed nightly of the oceans tides, beneath a shimmering purple coastline sky

The sharp edge of the Soul Lost, buried somewhere amid the depths beneath the soul A stinging, burning pain, a burden takes its toll written words fly like cheap bullets, lost in senseless flight, a ray of sunshine, another day, another lonely night Excuses, abuses, platitudes, they don’t make sense…

Author: Rachel Riederer | Publication: The New Yorker — Very intering piece from the New Yorker. If it helps people with their trauma I’m all for it, but it seems like they still need to do more clincial trials. Link to article: https://www.newyorker.com/books/under-review/the-rebranding-of-mdma

Link to Art App: https://apps.apple.com/us/app/dailyart/id547982045

The Lincoln Lawyer —