(Source: redsuspenders, via gremlinprincess)
98 year old Dobri Dobrev, a man who lost his hearing in the second world war, walks 10 kilometers from his village in his homemade clothes and leather shoes to the city of Sofia, where he spends the day begging for money.
Though a well recognized fixture around several of the city’s chruches, known for his prostrations of thanks to all donors, it was only recently discovered that he has donated every penny he has collected — over 40,000 euros — towards the restoration of decaying Bulgarian monasteries and churches and the utility bills of orphanages, living entirely off his monthly state pension of 80 euros and the kindness of others.
(via fuckthereallife)
Goodbye, The Office. You will be missed.
(Source: winchestrbrothrs, via crentist)
Pure cannabis cigars, consisting of marajuana bud soaked in THC oil, then rolled in broad cannabis topleaf. The best
100000000%
My life has been both ruined and transformed. I now know this is possible, but I wasn’t the one to make it so.
ije4abtg0[8qu[94boajtg0q8423h[iowbajkt they beat us
(via fuckthereallife)
![soulbrotherv2:
This is truly a tragic story, and I deplore dealing in negativity, but it is, nevertheless, one that most be told and not forgetten:“The Short, Violent Life of Robert “Yummy” Sandifer: So Young to Kill, So Young to Die,” by Nancy R. Gibbz
On a bright September afternoon last week, the mothers of Chicago’s South Side brought their children to a vigil for a dead boy they had never met. They wanted their kids to see the scrawny corpse in the loose tan suit lying in a coffin, next to his stuffed animals, finally harmless. The big kids dragged the little kids up to look at the stitches on his face where the bullets fired into the back of his head had torn through. The only picture the family could find for the funeral program was a mug shot. “Take a good look,” said the Rev. Willie James Campbell. “Cry if you will, but make up your mind that you will never let your life end like this.”
Parents hoped to haunt their children; maybe fear would keep them safe. Lynn Jeneta, 29, took her nine-year-old son Ron. If he got scared enough, she decided, “maybe then he wouldn’t be lying there himself one of these days.” She pushed him right up to the coffin. Ron tried to stay calm. “Some kids said Yummy looked like he was sleeping, but he didn’t look like he was sleeping to me.” What exactly then did he look like? “Kind of like he was gone, you know?” His composure melts. “When Mama pushed me forward, I thought I was going to fall right in the damn coffin. That gives me nightmares, you know? Can you imagine falling into a coffin?” [Read complete article.]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/9232d39ec043f5a9985c2d4beb0d6957/tumblr_mm5nlabZFl1qe25w3o1_400.jpg)
This is truly a tragic story, and I deplore dealing in negativity, but it is, nevertheless, one that most be told and not forgetten:
“The Short, Violent Life of Robert “Yummy” Sandifer: So Young to Kill, So Young to Die,” by Nancy R. GibbzOn a bright September afternoon last week, the mothers of Chicago’s South Side brought their children to a vigil for a dead boy they had never met. They wanted their kids to see the scrawny corpse in the loose tan suit lying in a coffin, next to his stuffed animals, finally harmless. The big kids dragged the little kids up to look at the stitches on his face where the bullets fired into the back of his head had torn through. The only picture the family could find for the funeral program was a mug shot. “Take a good look,” said the Rev. Willie James Campbell. “Cry if you will, but make up your mind that you will never let your life end like this.”
Parents hoped to haunt their children; maybe fear would keep them safe. Lynn Jeneta, 29, took her nine-year-old son Ron. If he got scared enough, she decided, “maybe then he wouldn’t be lying there himself one of these days.” She pushed him right up to the coffin. Ron tried to stay calm. “Some kids said Yummy looked like he was sleeping, but he didn’t look like he was sleeping to me.” What exactly then did he look like? “Kind of like he was gone, you know?” His composure melts. “When Mama pushed me forward, I thought I was going to fall right in the damn coffin. That gives me nightmares, you know? Can you imagine falling into a coffin?” [Read complete article.]
