If you have received an automated call, you are members of an ever increasing trend.

Life is like an icecream that soon melts.

Here is a poem written sometime 2007 after watching a documentary, which featured a blog of an unnamed woman where she tried to recount her horrible story of being raped by her own kin when she was still young–a personal attempt to capture what was told in the online journal/written article to the documentary/moving picture and now to a poem/spoken word form.

There are people who say that journalists do not like to talk. This in familiar language means that journalists do not like to lie. There are always looking for information.