A year ago, I met a man who was down on his luck and thought
I might be able lt help him. I don't know that I have.
Yes, my friend Mr. Ayers now sleep inside.
He has a key. He has a bed. But his mental state,
and his well-being, are as precarious now as they were the day we met.
There are pepole who tell me I've helped him.
Mental health experts who say
that the simple act of being someone's friend
can change his brain chemistry, improve his functioning in the world.
I can't speak for Mr. Ayers in that regard.
Maybe our frienship has helped him. But maybe not.
I can however, speak for myself.
I can tell you that by witnessing Mr. Ayers courage,
his humility, his faith in the power of his art,
I've learned the dignity of being loyal to something you believe in.
Of holding onto it, above all else.
[The Soloist, (solista) directed by Joe Wright]
nie wiem czy jestem Lopezem, czy Ayersem,
nie ważne czy jesteś Ayersem , czy Lopezem
;)
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