I Make It Easier For People To

Journalism Classes Teach Us That One Must Extract Oneself From The Story In Order To Report Without Bias, But Often We Need To Be In The Story In Order To Understand, To Connect, To Help The Audience Identify Or Else It Has No Heart; It Could Be A Robot Telling The Story, For All Anyone Cares.

His Entired Life Bundled Into Wenty Refuse Sacks. His And Her Memories Bundle Away In Holly's Mind. Each Item Unearthed Dust, Tears, Laughter And Memories. She Bagged The Items, Cleared The Dust, Wiped Her Eyes And Filed Away The Memories.

When You Drop A Glass Or A Plate To The Ground, It Makes A Crashing Sound. When A Window Shatters, A Table Breaks, Or A Picture Fall Of The Wall, It Makes Noise. But As For Your Heart, When That Breaks, It's Completely Silent... And You Almost Wish There Was A Noise To Distract You From The Pain.

Moments Are Precious, Sometimes They Linger And Other Times They're Fleeing, And Yet So Much Could Be Done In Them; You Could Change A Mind, You Could Save A Life And You Could Even Fall In Love.

I Love It Here In Boston And I Love Studying Medicine. But It’s Not Home. Dublin Is Home. Being Back With You Felt Like Home. I Miss My Best Friend. I’ve Met Some Great Guys Here, But I Didn’t Grow Up With Any Of Them Playing Cops And Robbers In My Back Garden. I Don’t Feel Like They Are Real Friends. I Haven’t Kicked Them In The Shins, Stayed Up All Night On Santa Watch With Them, Hung From Trees Pretending To Be Monkeys, Played Hotel, Or Laughed My Heart Out As Their Stomachs Were Pumped. It’s Kind Of Hard To Beat That.