“Sometimes you can’t let yourself be distracted by the little flaws, and need to look at the pig bicture.”
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“Sometimes you can’t let yourself be distracted by the little flaws, and need to look at the pig bicture.”
After a devastating earthquake in a destitute third world country, many first world organizations sent ‘short-term missionary teams’ to help the devastated population return to their lives.
There was rubble and wreckage and people collecting their broken lives in a wheelbarrow and hauling them away by the side of the road. Without homes, the people were openly on display as cars drove by, however no one seemed to notice in the same way you don’t notice every breath you take.
The short term missionaries then rolled through with their shiny rented cars and took pictures like it was a zoo. Normally in these circumstances those inside the car would be afraid, but the glass windows of the car served as a barrier that detached and removed these short-term missionaries from the world; but from the outside it was clear that those in the air conditioned cars were the ones on display.
One thing that I will fail to understand is how there is always that one extra sock left after doing laundry. Where do they go? Is there a Neverland for lost socks, or does the machine purposely guzzle the most frustrating item of clothing to lose as a fee for drying? Maybe they just hate being crammed into a dark drawer, awakened rudely, stuffed into shoes, and then stepped on all day. It’s a rough life being a sock, and I can see why they might want to escape.
Even though you’re only missing one sock, somehow every pair of socks you own end up being mismatched and nothing is the same, and you just don’t know what to do with that one extra sock. Should you put it in the drawer and forget about it, should you keep it as some sort of memorial, or should you just throw it away? There’s no good way to fold a single sock.
allmostrelevant 