It was pouring down rain this afternoon, I’m dashing to catch a bus and you seemed insulted that I didn’t want to stop to listen to your memorized word vomit. “I’m a student, I’m disabled, I can barely support myself right now until I can go back to work.” It fell on deaf ears and you continued to blab. I’m sorry about the fucking kids who are hungry in Estonia, but I don’t want to shock you that we have children held hostage in our border crisis. Also this administration has cut food stamps for families in the thousands, who are struggling. Even school lunch programs. So I’m fucking sorry if I’m more concerned with what is happening in our own country right now then listening to your supposed “concern”. Only a percentage of the money donated to you people goes towards your “mission” and I don’t feel like paying for your overhead and cult-group pep talks at an organic and gluten free pizza place, when what money I can donate? Can go to a kid here in town or across the state, to ensure they have a nutritious meal while they’re at school. What I told you seemed to go over your glazed-eyed head as I pointed out the fact we are fucked here in the USA. I wasn’t moved by your canned plea for money nor your mission.