he literally is a skeleton. Skin hanging on bones. No muscles, no fat, it made me wonder, where are his internal organs? Have they shrunk? I think of the bounty of food I have in my refrigerator-
or the food that is wasted everyday by even just the homes on my street. What would this man have given, just for my garbage. Just for the leftover rice that was hard, and so I threw out. I can never go back and act like I didn't see that man, who still found the will to move about. Of course, I personally have seen other war photographs, and other photographs of starving people, however, there was something in the power of this particular photograph that stuck with me. Something that made me feel ashamed on what I waste, what I am picky about, or my ridiculous complaints about the lunch i didn't care for. I am ashamed. I am ashamed for my own actions and for the actions of those I know. I consider myself a compassionate person. Someone who is fairly knowledgeable of the world, but seeing especially this one image-makes me really want to reexamine my own way of living.
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