at this moment there are 7,004,469,939 people in the world.
some, are running scared.
some, are coming home.
some tell lies to make it through the day.
some, wont face truths.
some are evil, at war with good.
some are good, struggling with evil.
7,004,469,939 people in the world,
7,004,469,939 souls.

"And the world's got me dizzy again
You think after 22 years I'd be used to the spin
And it only feels worse when I stay in one place
So I'm always pacing around or walking away"

Charlotte Taylor's Spring Collection 2012

CHARLOTTE TAYLOR SPRING SUMMER 2012 COLLECTION from Ben Taylor on Vimeo.

I have a thing for last words.
When getting out of a car, I feel the need to give the driver a few lats words.
You know, to make sure they understand how thankful i am for the ride, how much fun i had, how much i hated what ever we did...you know, what ever it may be.
Same with on the phone.
I feel like I need to be the last one to say good bye.
I don't know if this has some psychological tie to it, I'm sure it does.
But I also love knowing what peoples last words are.
Like, people who are dead.

Like Tom "Black Jack" Ketchum.
Died 1901. He was a gang member and a notorious train robber. He was comrades with Butch Cassidy and a wanted cowboy. He was captured and sentenced to death by hanging. His executioner tied the rope poorly which then resulted in Ketchum being decapitated. sick, right? Before he was pushed off the platform he laughed and said

"I'll be in hell before breakfast-let her rip!"

Or Charlie Chaplin, 1977
I priest giving counseling while on his death bad said to him "May the Lord have mercy on your soul."
Chaplin shrugged and said

"Why not? After all, it belongs to him."

And Jane Austen, 1817
When asked by her sister if there was anything she wanted

"Nothing but death."

Last one (for now)
John Adams, 1826
"Thomas Jefferson, still survives..."
Jefferson had actually died earlier that same day...

"This is a paradox of man: compared to God, man is nothing; yet we are everything to God." 
DIETER F. UCHTDORF

there’s always a starting point.
everything has one, even a day.
a moment
when the sun seperates
from the earth,
and returns to the stars.
there’s always a beginning,
a first breath,
a blossom,
a scream,
a look,
a touch,
a kiss.
a spark,
a point of orgin.
but what happens
when the sun decends
beneath the waves?
what happens
when we taste our last breath?
there’s always a beginning,
everything has one, even the end.
-The Dust Dances Too.

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