So…did Naruto take Sasuke’s first kiss or did Sasuke take Naruto’s first kiss?
There are so many people in my life that I just want to Joker pencil trick sometimes…
The name Connor is cursed. Whether it be spelled with an ‘er’ or an ‘or’, it brings nothing to show.
Conner Kent was crafted from the genes of the great hero Superman and the evil Lex Luthor. One of fathers loves him and wants to help him while the other ignores his total existance.
Connor Kenway was called a savage. His father was white and his mother a native. After the death of his mother, his father wanted nothing to do with him. The only thing his father wanted was his death.
My favorite video game of all time…It’s just so bizarre!
Hollywood Husbands (From left to right):
Robert Downey Jr.
They start off young. When I went to Malawi Africa this summer, I saw tons of children like this. As soon as they are able to walk, they begin to do things for their family. Especially the young girls. At a young age, young girls in Malawi are already carrying their younger siblings on their backs. At a young age, young girls of Malawi are walking all the way to the water pump just to fill their small bucket of water for their family to use to drink and bathe. Once the bucket was filled, young girls of Malawi would prop it right back up on their heads and walk all the way home, tiny drops of water sloshing back out. At a young age, young girls of Malawi are helping their mothers cook and clean the house, awaiting their father’s return.
They rarely go to school because of this.
buildOn sent me and my Trek team their to help teach these young girls about the value of education to prevent hardships on their already difficult lives. Through education, we can empower these young girls of Malawi to help their mothers and also receive a higher education.
These young girls of Malawi may one day attend school and become new leaders of the world.
These are the hands that guided us. They taught us the ways of their world. The palms are rough from baking bricks and holding the wooden handles as they drive the metal heads into the fresh dirt. They swing mallets that collide with rocks, sending small sparks of earth everywhere. These hands rip up sugar cane and tobacco. These hands mix cement. These hands are rough.
Yet these hands also wipe away a child’s tears. They cook nsima. They craft delicate bowls that take hours of smoothing. They weave baskets. These hands crack open peanuts along with smaller hands of a child. These hands are soft.
All of our hands, whether we be a Mzungu or a member of Kachere, were like this. They could do both things; being soft and being rough. Our skin triple layered as they worked with new material such as fresh bricks made from scratch and the splinter ridden shovels. Our skin softened up as we sat among our host brothers and sisters, cracking open peanuts in order to feast on later as stories were shared of the wonders of America such as education being free and everywhere. My hands are still rough, baring the weight of continuing to make the world better for all. Look at your hands. Do you see the roughness? Can you feel the softness? Do you know what your hands can do?
That’s me. The first time I have ever posted about myself on Tumblr. But I’m not doing it to share my face to let the world know what I look like. I have a purpose. I saved lives this summer. I educated people. I motivated women to pull up their britches and make a name for themselves. This child on my back is not mine. It’s a child of Kachere. It’s a child of Malawi, Africa. It’s a child of the future’s glory. Just having the weight of this baby on my back, simply being held by a simple knot of thin cloth, made me feel closer to the soil of Africa than any documentary ever could. It all began with a simple question, why do you want to go on Trek? Trek is a chance to go overseas and change the world, but only with buildOn. We represent the individuals who care. I know I post other things that have nothing to do with anything about the world but pay attention to this. We went on a journey that brought us joy, that brought us fear, that brought us sadness. It was hard for us to let go but we knew that it would come. Our job was to erect a building of safety; of knowledge; of power. Brick by brick, shovel by shovel, we compacted together a way to make this community better. And it was all for this baby. This baby was no more than 2 months old, wrapped in a single cloth with a New York Giants cap. A mother who did not speak the same language as me loosened her child off her back and turned me around. She pressed my back down and placed her baby boy on my back careful, wrapped both of her cloths around me with a single knot and there it was. I could hear his steady breathing against my spine as he slept. I took one careful step, testing the knot. I took another, then another, before I was doing laps around the water pump, showing off the child. I became a part of Kachere regardless of how different these worlds were. Every time I gaze over the images I have captured, I can picture myself back there. That’s me.