I feel shame, disgust and guilt. I displace those feelings onto my self worth. After all, I am one of billions. I am pollen in the wind. Smiling snapshots glare joy and fulfillment.
Nobody brings a camera to a child beating.
Naivet does not become you. It circles your neck, a string of pearls bruising the flesh. Beauty being the clich . These people are only people, they make mistakes. Our past affects who we effect to be now.