So yesterday, I took a walk through the streets of SC...thinking; thinking that you know what, Universe, you decide what I should come across my street journey. And so it did. I want to share a piece of my journey with you all. Its a little political. Probably because of a story I read that is still etched in my head. (
LINK) I swear it feels like someone stabbed my brain with a fork.
I saw a group of people protesting the war, advocating peace, and
requesting troops to be pulled out, so I decided this would be a good start towards photojournalism. I approached two protesters who've been doing this for about 5 years. "Why? Why are you doing this?" Truth is, this is pretty much a repeat. That is, this is Vietnam just tweaked a little differently. And now we are falling into another cycle. Another cycle of where the weak are taken for fools. Where those who have power think they can play the same ol' game and come out on top.
But, there is one problem for those who think that everything will remain the same: change is the only constant. The world evolves and people, well, they follow suit.
I asked them if they thought things were getting better...after all they had witnessed decades go by...so I asked, is there hope? They remained silent, but they remained standing. Standing, because there is hope; hope that things will change. It's a strange feeling to comprehend. A sensation that there will a change in world. You aren't sure which way it will go, but between doing nothing at all, you can at least hope it will go for the best.
Who knows, maybe one day I can open up the paper and not see a spiritual person, praying that our President dies. Blah...just writing that sentence left a dirty sensation in my mouth. I am gonna go brush my teeth folks; till next time...
Hope for the best in others,
Serg
"It is difficult to achieve a spirit of genuine cooperation, as long as people remain indifferent to the feelings and happiness of others."
-Dalai Lama
We take a step back from the serious this week and dive deep into the inner workings of the psychic. How does the psychic receive their information? Where does it come from? The first time I met with Chip I though it was the hat. We took Chip to the cemetery across from the house to see if there was any relation between the haunting at home and the cemetery. It was rather chilly, almost as if the spirits came out to join us; course it being January didn't help either. I took a couple of photographs when all of a sudden Chip was picking up on something and quickly snapped this photo. It was clear that he was getting a reading as the flaps on his hat rose up. It was as if he was tuning in to pick up the right frequency, like you would with a radio. To this day, it's still a mystery as to how and why psychics work the way they do, but on that day....it had to be the hat.
oʊ
