There was
blood on the pavement this morning, spots and small blotches—likely from a
small wound or a bloodied nose. I followed the trail of blood for a time. There was a consistent rhythm to the
trail. A slow, laborious rhythm of pain
and suffering.
I lost interest in the trail after a
few blocks and turned towards the west.
Later,
while listening to the radio, I learn that there was close to one million
suicides every year worldwide. I learn
also the Lithuania has the highest suicide rate in the world. Why Lithuania? I can’t get my head around it as I have no
notion of Lithuanian life. I know that
Lithuania is somewhere in Europe, or at least i think Lithuania is in
Europe. That’s about it. I have never met a Lithuanian
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