Why does crowdsourcing and crowdfunding go together?

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It’s been well over a year, almost two in fact, since I’ve actually conversed with you. I mean, there’s been the occasions where I’ve had to speak with my brother and subsequently heard you swearing at or about me. Or the seemingly endless text message rallies where I would plead with you to understand, and you would taunt me and bait me to kill myself. I know how and what you’re thinking and feeling. You make it very clear. I can see you in my minds eye, sitting sideways on the couch in a shroud of cigarette ash. A fortress of tinnies and smugness. I know you’re shaking your head, raising your eyebrows, pursed lips — full of self righteousness.

I know you think of me as a black hole; taking, taking, taking. A selfish entity, as you put it. I am not going to contest that anymore — I’m too tired. You are blind to any perspective but your own. Reality isn’t your friend. At least, you don’t want to be friends with it. You need to acknowledge that you broke your child, though. Just because you bought me into this world, doesn’t make you infallible in my eyes.You are blind to any perspective but your own. Reality isn’t your friend. At least, you don’t want to be friends with it. You need to acknowledge that you broke your child, though. Just because you bought me into this world, doesn’t make you infallible in my eyes. Just as a mother isn’t infallible in any child's eyes. You can fuck it up — you can fuck them up. As much as bringing a child into the world is part of parenthood, it is more importantly the role you take in that child's life. t’s been well over a year, almost two in fact, since I’ve actually conversed with you. I mean, there’s been the occasions where I’ve had to speak with my brother and subsequently heard you swearing at or about me.

Or the seemingly endless text message rallies where I would plead with you to understand, and you would taunt me and bait me to kill myself. I know how and what you’re thinking and feeling. You make it very clear. I can see you in my minds eye, sitting sideways on the couch in a shroud of cigarette ash. A fortress of tinnies and smugness. I know you’re shaking your head, raising your eyebrows, pursed lips — full of self righteousness. I know you think of me as a black hole; taking, taking, taking. A selfish entity, as you put it. I am not going to contest that anymore — I’m too tired. You are blind to any perspective but your own.

Reality isn’t your friend. At least, you don’t want to be friends with it. You need to acknowledge that you broke your child, though. Just because you bought me into this world, doesn’t make you infallible in my eyes. Just as a mother isn’t infallible in any child's eyes.

You can fuck it up — you can fuck them up. As much as bringing a child into the world is part of parenthood, it is more importantly the role you take in that child's life.