Needles and Bruises

Somethings never change.
Nature. Profanity. Thinking.
Somethings always change.
People. Attitude. Beliefs
What is the measure, the limit, or the way of grasping the angles of depression and being repressed?
I saw a woman on a bus today. Crying.
With a small bruise on her face and silent tears dripping from her face as she held her little baby in her arms.
Is the society dumb?
Are we insane?
Have we lost our minds?
Is hitting necessary? Can you not freaking speak? Damn you society.
You have turned us all into blindfolded idiots.
I hate you. And I hate the way I am part of it too.
I hate the way I saw her and I couldn't do anything except offering her a tissue.
Are we that helpless?
Screw Morality.
Change is so damn important. Would God come down and offer us a 'I am changed' badge?? No. Get over yourself.
Stop blaming.
Stop complaining.
I am saying that to myself too.
Change. For the love of God and all things human, CHANGE.