Face Of The Stranger.

Stranger of many: For every finger in every fist that has been smashed into her beautiful face, you can use them to count all the people she means the world to. The simple feeling of inadequacy and mediocrity has completely demolished the backbones of too many young women. I can only hope that one day, everyone will see this and help them soar. If any of us had any idea the magnitude over the world we had within our grasp, just for being who we are, Unbelivable things could occur. She’s so better than that. And so are you.

Men: It’s really hard to confront your friend about abusing his girlfriend. But it’s ever harder to be his girlfriend. Stand up. Save her, and him.

Seventeenth stranger of many: I once didn’t know a woman, who didn’t know a man, who didn’t know a young lady who probably didn’t know what she was about to write about. But then she did. And when she did, she spoke of insignificant truths that most find unsettling or foreboding. She spoke of being alone, and embracing the lonliness. This stranger is alone. The privelage so many take to be a curse, is blessed upon this man. He sits and wonders why he doesn’t swim in the lake, or take off his shoes and nap, or kiss the next woman over 50 that walks past, just because he can. He’ll laugh about it. He takes thought and solice in the warmth of silence, the tingling embrace of freedom, and the knowledge that his identity and fire does not change depending on who is sitting 20 inches to his right. This man, and that young woman, make me appreciate my alonedem. My adventure. Me. Thank you, strangers.

“Society is afraid of alonedem. Like lonely hearts are wasting away in basements. Like people must have problems if after a while, no one is dating them. But lonely is a freedom that beathes lonely and weightless, and lonely is healing if you make it. You could stand, squashed by groups and mobs, or hold hands with your partner. Look both further and farther in the endless quest for company. But know what’s in your head, and by the time you translate your thoughts some essence of them may be lost. Or maybe it’s just kept. Perhaps in loving ones self… Perhaps in those sappy slogans from pre-school over into high school were tokens for holding the lonely at bay.”

Thank you, Sir. Thank you, Ma’am. Lonely has never felt so warm. And I’ve never known strangers as I do now. I hope you feel the same. The words that flow from your lips to the lens, giving the vibrations of the fibers of the speakers of my crummy $400 PC shoot through my ears and dwell in my tears and fall into these keys and back into your lips to speak another day, and change another life.  These are the lives of the strangers around you. Admire their lives, and cherish your own.

Again, thank you.

 Sixtheenth stranger of many, and the first stranger in color. However, also the least deserving.

I look at her, and I look at you. All that changes are the color of the eyes. If there is anything I’ve learned through the beauty of the stranger, it’s that the hideousness comes out in turn. The disgusting rituals, the dispicable mannerisms, the revolting stench of courtship for the average girl, today. I spit in your face, and you kiss me with the passion I yearned for ages ago. When in past it took all the strength I had to win a girl’s love, all my strength is spent now, not trying to care. I discovered, through you and through the faces other strangers exactly identical to yours, the easiest way to a girls heart is to rip it out.  So I hold the door for myself, and thank myself rightly so. I look at myself, smile and bite my lip, and rub my own palm with my thumb, and graze my cheek. I let myself finish my sentance, I tell myself how pretty I am. I stand up for myself through any odds, I help myself through my hardships and problems. I lay myself down and grip my hand hard right before my first time making love, I tell myself everything will be alright, because I love myself. I make myself feel without a care in the world, and hate myself for it. Because this chivalry has to go somewhere, used on someone. And it’s been rejected too many times. I pride myself in seeing the beauty in strangers, even at it’s worst. I saw it in your stranger, too. I see the beauty in this stranger, even still… But where is yours?

I can only hope to speak about this stranger you can see, for the strangers you can’t see.

Note to the reader: I realize as time has passed, These posts have become less and less impartial. I would like to apologize, but also state that I have found a more inspired connection of thinking could and will be developed though personal interest, expanding out to one another. Please exuse any further inability to remain uncommitted or pacafistic in any future writings.

Fifthteenth stranger of many: I began this tumblr as a doorway. A doorway into the minds of the unknown, to help society understand the better and the worst of eachother. To help them know. I sometimes wonder if this is helping at all. Do you connect with this at all? Is the only way for you to feel things not due from circumstance or actions, for me to feel them for you and share? I intended this as a crutch, to help you connect. First to the unknown, and then to the ones closest to you. I just wonder sometimes, if those around me, whether they be readers or people I don’t even know, will begin to feel, just to feel. Just for the sheer power and divinity of the human mind and heart. This stranger struck me by suprise because it reminded me that sometimes the most unresponsive and quietest of emotions are the strongest as they come. It just drives me to the edge, not knowing if you ever would have felt this girl though your own eyes, and not mine. Don’t let the lives of these strangers be a waste. Please.

Fourteenth stranger of many: There isn’t alot of analyzation or comments for this. Look at the metaphorical and literal space he’s been given. He’s a pencil pusher with no space to breathe. I don’t know why it took me so long to wake up and realize this. I’m just glad I did.. DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT, ever settle. Live your life, and reach goals you haven’t set for yourself yet. There’s always more room to breathe. Always.

Twelfth stranger of many: An old couple posing for a formal photograph. Solemn faces, a average, tired posture. A modern American Gothic. And just that much more to ask about. To question the wisdom of the elderly would be foolish. But to question in what way that wisdom is processed, and what thoughts go through the minds of those growing in age, is a question not commonly asked, but a question that easily baffles the youth. In one lifetime, a person could have endured tens of wars, seen deaths, births, fights, and moments of peace. The list of experience goes on and on. The fact is, looking into the face of this couple, it makes me wonder what kind of life they have led. I wonder if this woman was a average house wife, or an adored model. If her husband was in the navy, or the head fo a prestigious business. Unless you hold a relationship with someone of that age, you will never be able to know the lives they led. I feel looking at the elderly, expecially from these two, a urge to know what its like to live a lifetime. Their blank expressions are a taunting enigma that will never be solved from the slightest of a first glance, or a intense study. Just knowing the endless possiblitlies there could have been for these two, causes me to submiss my curiosity and interpretation for these strangers. These lives, these simple folk, with feelings just like everyone else, are beyond me. Your final anwser my friend, is that no amount of calculations, interpetation or evaluation will ever unveil the secrets of the elderly, as simple as they are.  And I greatly admire that.

Eleventh stranger of many: The woman in the center of the photograph, with short platinum blonde hair. This particular stranger in question is very peculiar, on more of a personal level. Hopefully sharing will cause another connection, leaving a satisfying knowledge of understanding. While browsing photos for inspiration, I came across this woman. I have no knowledge of her at all. After the sight of her, I immediatly wished to become a part of her life. Seeing her made me want to let her know everything about me, and I her. This is not an obsession with the woman in person, but more of who she is, and the ability to become a part of her life. I could possibly be the only one who’s had one of these encounters. But if not, you can make the connection of seeing someone, and become instantly fascinated by their being. I can’t help but to be amazed and perplexed. For some unknown reason, a mental force is driving me. I feel the need to help her through a rough time, or give her advice, or make her laugh. Some, and many, are going to find this post strange. But I cannot help the fact that I’m drawn in by the lifestyle she could live. I have a strong feeling others have had this experience as well. That others have been drawn in by a stranger, with no explainable reason, or characteristic that makes that person stand out from the crowd. It’s a develped sense in and of itself, To bring to attention and realize that there is so much beauty and complexity in the average person. And the urge to be a part of that beauty, I feel, isn’t just in me. It’s a surreal and unexplainable sensation. It’s part of the attraction behind the stranger. And it astounds me on a vast amount of levels. I can only hope it’s the same for you. Farewell for now, ma’am.

Tenth stranger of many: Don’t bother looking for the stranger in this photograph. I will be talking about a stranger with one of the best messages of all, the photographer. If you take a look at the photograph, the first things that probably stands out is the illusion that the man sitting and writing appears to have no head. Now if you look in the top right corner, you will see a painting with a depiction of a man about to behad a woman. Now whether or not this effect was attempted or not, the fact this this person had the talent and ability to not only capture this photo, but have that connection from still life to real life is simply amazing. Most of the time society in general has trouble finding inspiration. So we turn to others. For instance, today I happened to turn to this photographer’s work. And it helped me greatly. But what of the photographer? What of the true inspiring artist to others? Where does their inspiration come from? I’ll give you a hint. This person spends their entire photography life devoted to taking photos of strangers found in the public. In each of the uninspired, comes a waterfall of enthusiasm and opportunity for others, like this photographer. Inspiration doesn’t come from the stress you build, or the same concepts you familiarize yourself with. You find it in everyone and everything. Connect with all of your surroundings. Through the simplest things in life, like a single photograph, comes power. Imagination. Inspiration. Some birds weren’t meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. There’s no reason for anyone to be caged. Break through from what you know, to what you’ve never experienced before. Insipre yourself. But more importantly, inspire the uninspired.

Ninth stranger of many: Man serving a life sentance in a Russian prison. If you lok at his forehead, you see a line of barbed wire stretching from temple to temple. The markings on this man, were given by a fellow prisoner to show that he will serve a life sentance with no chance of parole. It’s astonishing that he could take this slice of reality, and accept it for what it was. He had ink injected into his head. For all to see. It make me wonder what kind of petty things everyone else seems to just accept and not fight for. This man will never experience the liberties of a free life again. He has been told by the highest authorities that this is the life he will live. He knows it. The fact that people in every day life take the smallest inconsistancies, the littlest delimas and make them seem to hold them back in life disappoints me. So much can be accomplished with a little effort. Look at his forehead. He has made a life, of having no life. There’s no where for him to go. You aren’t being held back by chains, just yourself. The longer you find reason to remain stagant in the life your living, the clearer your tattoo becomes. And it matches his.

Eighth stranger of many: A woman on a Washington D.C. subway. Most people never let the thoughts of others lives run through their minds. This picture, is a clear symbol of the two extremes in the live’s of society. This woman is wearing a brown, worn out jacket, But right under this cheap fall coat, is elegent lustful white lingerie. Aha, now the human mind begins to yearn the exploration. The possibilities are endless. There could possibly have been a man out on a different subway at that very moment, waiting to make love to his wife in her gorgeous lingerie, shouting at the top of their lungs in a erotic whirlwind of passion. The creatures of the night and the angels of daylight have such astonishingly contradicting lifestyles. Imagine the secrets of the the woman above. She holds more than you could possibly imagine. The underworld of wild desire and lust is a sinful habitat of the utmost secrecy. And everyone feeds off of it. Find it in strangers. It’s right in front of your face.

Seventh stranger of many: This man has fallen in the middle of wall street, New York in the rain. This will be the first time iIve expressed a biased opinion or “stronger than needed” feelings. So please bare with me. This man might live a top of the line, upper class life. Or he might live from paycheck to paycheck. The fact is, he’s experiencing a feeling of medirocrity, a moment of weakness. Others see, but walk on. It’s these kinds of things, that bring out the guilt in me. To see someone try so hard at their craft, but not succeed in it. To see someone work so hard to please or impress a girl, and then face rejection. It’s not the average or so-so that make me feel so strongly. It’s those who have the heart, dedication, and determination of champions, but have nothing to show for it, despite their hard efforts. I want that artist to get his decent painting sold. I want the hard working to succeed. Those kind of people NEED to know that their amazing efforts aren’t wasted on the uncaring, or pushed aside. I can’t express in too many other way, how strongly I feel about this. I intended This site is for all. That it would give universal understanding through the faces of strangers. This is how I feel, about this man. I respect this stranger, more than anyone I could think would. I want you to feel through one man, the lives of many. I hope you only feel the same way. I hope you see the face of this stranger.

Sixth stranger of many: A man in london suffers a near fatal spinal injury. I have never seen anyone die. Not in person, and not on live, or non-live film. Honestly, I can say I want to keep it that way. You gain a sort of unwanted knowledge about life, and how fragile it really is when you witness something like this. This man probably woke up this morning having no idea that he would wind up in a stretcher. And i’m sure the people around him had no intention of seeing such a sight on their agenda, either. We don’t know anything about strangers except for what we see on the outside. But a kind of guilty, worried pang assaults our stomachs anytime something like this occurs to someone we don’t even know. Perhaps it’s because we know that somewhere, this stranger is a close friend or husband to someone else. Or perhaps it’s because we know that one day we could be the stranger, with the agonizing faces around us, with others feeling exactly how we feel now. In any case, things like this show that the life of a stranger is precious. To himself, others, and you.

Fifth stranger of many: A witch docter in the middle of a healing ritual. Witch docters use a combination of traditional healing and spiritual guidance to cure the weak and wounded, as opposed to contemporary medicine. They use their religious significance as a way to keep spirits high, and increase the effectiveness of the treatment. It’s amazing that you could look at a priest, and this witch docter, and know they serve the same purpose. To help those around them with their spiritual knowedge. It’s a strange thing, religion. I myself don’t hold to one. But it’s good to know that with all the uncertainty in this world, close friends or complete strangers can hold a universal understanding and respect for one another, but being a part of the same religion. The fact that this medicine man, could look the pope dead in the eyes, and still hold the highest respect for a man he’s probably never seen in his life. Due to that spiritual understanding. It’s those subconcious binds that show there’s good in the average man, even if he doesn’t know who he’s helping. Things like that, that show the qualities we can never seem to find.

Fourth stranger of many: Contrary to any doubt you may have, this man is homeless. This photo comes from a gallery of photographs taken to show the world true poverty and those who live in it. I often wonder what the thoughts and feelings of the homeless are. Whether or not they hate the life they live, if they enjoy the freedom, or simply what they want to do for the day. This man has no home, no secure place of being, and probably isn’t treated with half the respect he deserves. But look at his posture. His curiosity. The way he holds himself, like he doesn’t have a care in the world resting on him. Society’s fear of strangers and those who seem to be worse-off than us has led us to not give those who see the world at it’s most realistic and harsh state a chance. The lessons we could learn from an individual like the man above are infinite. We just have to appreciate the forms they come in.

Third stranger of many: A bite out of life, looking into the eyes of several of Manhattan’s regulars. These people are currently enjoying one of their moments when they can release the pressures of urban life. Where constant movement isn’t a criteria, whether you know where your going or not. Where you can finally just stand, and collect yourself. These moments come very seldom. There seems to be a large universal desire to get away from the stagnant lifestyle of suburban and rural enviornments. However, it seems that the longer you live in a fast-paced lifesytle, the more it takes out of you. Once you see what you don’t have, it instantly becomes the object of desire. All of this is to refer back to the beauty of the mind of a stranger. Look at their faces. They look tired. They crave serenity, a moment of peace. More times than none, all you need is to see that even those who live your dreams yearn for something else. That my friend, is one more reason why society should admire the stranger.