i have a soft spot for the broken souls in this world, which is probably a reflection of my own somewhat tattered self. when i was nineteen a good friend of mine said that if she put me in a room with hundreds of people i would immediately be drawn to the one with the most pain; perhaps she was right. but, in all honesty, we all have scars, we all have stories, we all have scattered and shattered pieces inside. i suppose i like to believe in hope, in redemption, in the part of all of us that rise above what hurts within us. and, that hope, i think it is so beautiful. i wish that elliott smith had stuck around long enough to find his moment of begin again.
