Old people talk to strangers. Why don’t I compliment strangers everyday, start conversations and ask questions?
It seems so intrusive to ever start talking in a park or train.
People talk and talk. Months moving, words whispered, secrets shared.
A wise person always told me that the sound makes the music.
Words said can be so meaningless when no action supports them.
Nobody would consider believing one who states that he isn’t caring about paper whilst wearing a golden necklace.