I'd rather be homeless and doing what I was created to do, than have a safe warm home and not know what dreams to pursue.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Tonight, I found myself jealous. Jealous of a homeless man with a mental handicap. Despite the fact that he wasn't "normal," he had an incredible musical talent. Sitting on a park bench, with all his possessions at his feet, he played a cello. Standing near a tunnel, his trumpet tunes made music with the city sounds. Once he was student at Julliard, but now he lives his passion a little differently. He does it on the street, since the way his brain works prevents him from a normal job. He adores music so much that nothing can stop him from it.