When the curtains close and they leave the stage.

…when the people who have devoted their lives to entertain, inform and keep us alive eventually end up lying helplessly like spent like cartridges of a revolution, someone needs to lift them up the same way they lifted our spirits when we were low and warm their hearts the same way they warmed ours with their craft. When the curtains close in on them and they leave the stage, who will remember them?


What if success never made us happy

She seems sad and lonely too, just like him. Why on earth would they be unhappy when they seem to have everything going on for them, a beautiful home, money in the bank obviously, and probably a lot of property in their name? It’s like there is something fundamental lacking in their seemingly rich lives. A deprivation. To me it’s a puzzle, and I can’t seem to find the missing pieces.