I Have a Passion For Human Rights
The people I admire the most are those who weren’t motivated by money, but by meaningfulness.
Look at Rosa Parks, taking a stand for something she knew she could lose her life for... yet it made a difference.
Look at Martin Luther King whose braveness in the way he delivered his speeches gives goosebumps.
Countless individuals from the past are such an inspiration to me. Countless individuals who I will never meet, each day take a stand for their heart and not superficial lures.
Countless individuals, today, are overlooked and not seen for the magnificent hard-working people that they are.
Seems like people forget we are human. Humans who were forced to adapt to a world we didn’t choose. Where some were luckier than others in the hand they were dealt and it affects who they later turned out to be. Humans that all fear death despite all the religions we claim to abide by, who search for a little pleasure despite the ways we hide and masquerade ourselves to get it. Humans who want someone to tell us that we are actually good enough at something, and not be heartbroken at realizing that behind our backs everyone is displeased.
You are worth it, your feelings do have merit, but in a world of profit and demand people forget that we are more than mechanical objects found useful for our function.
I forget. I forget myself.
Look at Rosa Parks, taking a stand for something she knew she could lose her life for... yet it made a difference.
Look at Martin Luther King whose braveness in the way he delivered his speeches gives goosebumps.
Countless individuals from the past are such an inspiration to me. Countless individuals who I will never meet, each day take a stand for their heart and not superficial lures.
Countless individuals, today, are overlooked and not seen for the magnificent hard-working people that they are.
Seems like people forget we are human. Humans who were forced to adapt to a world we didn’t choose. Where some were luckier than others in the hand they were dealt and it affects who they later turned out to be. Humans that all fear death despite all the religions we claim to abide by, who search for a little pleasure despite the ways we hide and masquerade ourselves to get it. Humans who want someone to tell us that we are actually good enough at something, and not be heartbroken at realizing that behind our backs everyone is displeased.
You are worth it, your feelings do have merit, but in a world of profit and demand people forget that we are more than mechanical objects found useful for our function.
I forget. I forget myself.
31-35, F
