When the parents of a young murderer get in front of the cameras, when they read a statement…
There’s a moment.
A moment when they get choked up, a moment when they have difficulty reading what they typed earlier.
They start crying, because they can’t handle it.
Because Even if they made a monster,they are not themselves monsters..
That’s the moment you hear the cameras click faster.
Trying to capture the humanity.
Tears.
Trying to feed it to as many people as they can.
Bizarre.
There is .
There is…
There is a commodity in emotion.
In laughter, happiness, victory.
Sadness, bitterness, lost fights.
There is something that reminds us of being human, and that’s what the internal camera is looking for.
I knew it in music.
I always understood that because I always felt it..
It wasn’t until recently that I put an eyeball on other art.
Didn’t even think about it.
Wish I would have done that when I was 20.
I wish time would have worked out to where I was hearing the things I was hearing, and being exposed to the bigger picture when I still had time left.
Then I’d eat your lunch.
But I understand, and I know the score, And I’m really trying to be grateful for what is.
Bitter is easy.
I was listening to a True crime podcast, and they had parents making a statement about their murdering son,
When the father started to cry, You just heard cameras clicking faster and faster, And I wondered to myself
(why that moment?)
The money shot.
The real.
Real emotion.
Squeeze it and place it into a bottle.
You might get a few bucks.
dawn 