So i want to write to someone who has inspired me but i fall so far short of the standards she holds us to that i don't know what to say.
i could not give you a number for how many children in New York City are homeless or parentless or sick or going to bed without hugs.
Adults too, for that matter.
And it hurts to be reminded that all those times i thought my heart was breaking for myself, it needed to be breaking for others. (i have a heart strung together with duct tape at this point. That duct tape can do anything). i write a lot in this blog but i don't actually do that much.
Not sure how to face my hypocrisy head-on. i need a different life, i don't know if this is where it starts. Somehow i don't feel useful when i'm volunteering.