I've always believed that a portrait captures a person far better than a photograph. It truly takes a human being to really see a human being. 

That last line gets me every time.  It truly takes a human being to really see a human being.  I may not have time to draw pictures while carrying out my duties, but images are forever ingrained in my head.  Sometimes I ponder are these people completely void of compassion, emotion, self-respect, and empathy?  I could go on, but at this point there is no reason to.  There is no fight left, but lips pursed above rough waters, struggling to take in enough air.  Am I getting Nitrogen and Oxygen, because all I feel is CO2 building and a gnarly headache ensues?  There is no gas exchange.  The pressure of the ocean is not aiding proper lung expansion.  Two options: I sink and I die, or I keep fighting and my lungs collapse.  I bob back and forth between two loose loose choices, yet I remain steadfast.  For what?  So I can see humanity at its worst?  So they can see me break? Once again: I know there is a moral to this story, but I don't know what it is.  I'm desperately trying to find the reason for this situation.  Trying to find salvation amidst this mess.  Clarity is hard with sun and salt water stingy sensitive eyes.  But there is always light at the tunnel.  I just happen to think this is a long, slippery path.  I already totalled my car.  What other trouble could I get into?