Hate that I have to write about this subject here and pollute my otherwise rather upbeat & chirpy young blog page but after failing to fit what I wanted to say within the confines of a tweet I’ve decided to ventilate here instead.
As of today we all feel pure abhorrence for Ian Watkins and the ‘mothers' involved in the horrible stories coming out of his trial. (I use speech marks around the word 'mothers' here as we must ask the question do these women still qualify to be labelled as 'mothers'? Surely with their disgraceful actions they have rid themselves of the title of a female harbourer of young human life.)
But instead of the immature calls for death wishes I see disseminate through twitter can we not please focus our efforts on coming out of this dismal situation in a direction that would benefit society?
With his death, all we would see would be a simple case closed; end of; “the cunt got what he deserved” kind of thing. I.e. No one would objectively benefit from this situation. What we CAN do however, (yes, whilst locking him away) is psychologically analyse the man thoroughly to seek some answers as to how and why a human can comfortably commit such atrocities. Was it not just a cocktail of drugs but also perhaps some childhood trauma that brought on the propensities for a man to act like this? Causality must be taken into account and examined rigorously. Simply, we must find out what makes a human act this way. The more empirical evidence gathered on this subject the closer we can become in preventing further similar cases.
If our prison systems concentrated on gaining knowledge about the human condition and the human mind we might be able to stop cases like these happening in the future. (because whether we like it or not this is not some isolated case)
Future prevention > simple ‘justice’ or ‘vengeance’.
But if you’re one of the troglodytes calling for him to be hung or given lethal injection I’m sure this will all go over your head anyway.
Haha, it was insane! I guess I fell asleep with it under my head, then woke up regularly, but my arm didn’t follow. I could have swore I was dreaming. Then I freaked out and thought I’d never get feeling in my arm again. It hurt for it to even get blood flow in it…. Now, I wake up then check to make sure my arms hadn’t fallen off. XD
To have so many good things happen, yet still be unhappy. To come home from an otherwise good day, but want to curl into a ball and cry. To have people show you the love you craved at one point in life, and still feel alone. That’s all mental. That’s the darker part of our thoughts playing a dirty trick. They can’t be controlled like some think, but they can be outwitted.
I felt so stupid scrolling down to your phone number and wanting to text you a happy birthday at midnight last night, hoping to actually get a response back. I felt stupid even having your number still saved in my phone at all. It only brought me more tears.
I miss everything about you, Mitch. I wish you were here to help me get through this. I’ve been anxious about your 1 year coming up for the past few weeks, and the loss of Andrew just a week and a half before the day we lost you is destroying me. And just like him, you deserved to be here, too, with all of those who love you and need you.
Happy 29th Birthday, Mitchell Adam Lucker. I love you even still.
For the past three days, I’ve been sitting here, regretting all the things we never got to do, all because of the nonsense we allowed to get in the way and take up our time. I hate we never got to go on that date like we wanted to, and now that we never will, it kills me everyday. I’m still trying to understand everything, why you were the one chosen to be taken away from us so suddenly, so unexpectedly, when there are so many of us that wished it had been us at one time or another in our lives. You were such a joy to be around, and your spirit was so kind. I will forever envy those that had you longer than I could. You deserved to be here. We needed you to be here. I know this hurt we feel was the last thing you ever wanted, but it’s okay. We could never be upset at you. This pain is only temporary. The love and lessons you gave us will last forever.
Rest In Paradise, Andrew. I love you so much. I’ll see you later.
Drink up, baby doll Are you in or are you out? Leave your things behind 'Cause it’s all going off without you Excuse me too busy, you’re writing your tragedy These mishaps, you bubble-wrap When you’ve no idea what you’re like
So, let go, let go Jump in Oh well, what you waiting for? It’s all right 'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown
It gains the more it gives And then it rises with the fall So hand me that remote Can’t you see that all that stuff’s a sideshow? Such boundless pleasure We’ve no time for later Now you can’t await Your own arrival You’ve twenty seconds to comply
“To be a photographer, one must photograph. No amount of book learning, no checklist of seminars attended, can substitute for the simple act of making pictures. Experience is the best teacher of all. And for that, there is no guarantee that one will become an artist. Only the journey matters.”—Harry Callahan (via visual-renascence)
There is a purpose to all of the pain and suffering we endure. There is a purpose for everything and everyone. Learn from every ounce of sadness, from every ounce of joy, and never stop appreciating all of it. Life is a gift and we are all blessed.
So let’s decide who can survive Stomping feet and racing beats Of hearts that don’t ever slow Then I’ll write letters on white paper Expressing my deep disappointment
Dripping where I stand from my watery hands Hoping to get past the open bedroom door Where her clothes on the floor Remind me of our conversations The feeling of slight hesitation To turn out the lights
14 days now since we started (I’m not) To complicate the situation (I’m not hiding from this situation) I’m not hiding, (I’m not) I’m just buying some time for us to find the back door (I’m not hiding from this situation) We will come out when it’s safe for us when it’s safe for us when it’s safe for us, us for us all
There’s nothing left to say (Don’t believe me when I say it’s over.) To excuse the way that I’ve behaved I still feel him gripping like a stain to this fabric (By the time you’re gone it’s all uncovered) Torn in every seam Then thrown away