I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible and when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.
Let someone love you just the way you are – as flawed as you might be, as unattractive as you sometimes feel, and as unaccomplished as you think you are. To believe that you must hide all the parts of you that are broken, out of fear that someone else is incapable of loving what is less than perfect, is to believe that sunlight is incapable of entering a broken window and illuminating a dark room.
The broken seek sanctuary in all the wrong places. In packs of cigarettes, in the bottom of a tumbler, in empty beds.
"the suburb of agbogbloshie in ghana’s capital, accra, has in recent years become a dumping ground for computers and electronic waste from europe and the united states. hundreds of tons of e-waste end up here every month as countries in the west attempt to unload their ever increasing stockpiles of toxic junk. of the 20 to 50 million tons of electronics discarded each year, 70% will end up in poor nations.
"increasingly, this e-waste is finding it’s way to west africa and countries like ghana. traders bypass international laws by labeling the equipment as second hand goods or charity donations, but in reality as much as 80% of the computers sent to ghana are broken or obsolete. their final resting place is the agbogbloshie dump where they are broken apart, mostly by children, to salvage the cooper, hard drives and other components that can be sold on.
"the disposal of electronic goods in the west is a costly affair and must be done in an environmentally responsible manner. however, in places like ghana there are no such regulations, and toxic metals like lead, beryllium, cadmium and mercury are continuously being released, causing untold damage to human health and the environment."
photos and text by andrew mcconnell
Let’s file this under “I don’t know what the fuck this is but I like it.”
Have you ever felt a potential love for someone?
Like, you don’t actually love them and you know you don’t, but you know you could. You realise that you could easily fall in love with them. It’s almost like the bud of a flower, ready to blossom but it’s just not quite there yet. And you like them a lot, you really do. You think about them often, but you don’t love them. You could, though. You know you could.
Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water. And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes you cannot even breathe deeply and the night sky is no home, and you have cried yourself to sleep so many times you are down to your last two percent, but nothing is infinite, not even loss. You are made of the sea and the stars and one day you are going to find yourself.
Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.