Home Actress Anna Konkle HD Instagram Photos and Wallpapers September 2020 Anna Konkle Instagram - Closed blinds with bullet holes. Police shot without visuals into the apartment of #BreonnaTaylor. Shot. Killed. Her. Over and over again. Not caring where their lethalness landed or whose of these lives they were going to end. A continued brutality, a genocide upon beautiful black lives. There have been no charges against the officers involved so far. Link for petition in bio.

Anna Konkle Instagram – Closed blinds with bullet holes. Police shot without visuals into the apartment of #BreonnaTaylor. Shot. Killed. Her. Over and over again. Not caring where their lethalness landed or whose of these lives they were going to end. A continued brutality, a genocide upon beautiful black lives. There have been no charges against the officers involved so far. Link for petition in bio.

Anna Konkle Instagram - Closed blinds with bullet holes. Police shot without visuals into the apartment of #BreonnaTaylor. Shot. Killed. Her. Over and over again. Not caring where their lethalness landed or whose of these lives they were going to end. A continued brutality, a genocide upon beautiful black lives. There have been no charges against the officers involved so far. Link for petition in bio.

Anna Konkle Instagram – Closed blinds with bullet holes. Police shot without visuals into the apartment of #BreonnaTaylor. Shot. Killed. Her. Over and over again. Not caring where their lethalness landed or whose of these lives they were going to end. A continued brutality, a genocide upon beautiful black lives.

There have been no charges against the officers involved so far. Link for petition in bio. | Posted on 05/Jun/2020 02:36:53

Anna Konkle Instagram – What a journey this has been to say the least. Season 2 premieres Sept 18 on Hulu. We love you!!!
Anna Konkle Instagram – When Great Trees Fall Maya Angelou When great trees fall, rocks on distant hills shudder, lions hunker down in tall grasses, and even elephants lumber after safety. When great trees fall in forests, small things recoil into silence, their senses eroded beyond fear. When great souls die, the air around us becomes light, rare, sterile. We breathe, briefly. Our eyes, briefly, see with a hurtful clarity. Our memory, suddenly sharpened, examines, gnaws on kind words unsaid, promised walks never taken. Great souls die and our reality, bound to them, takes leave of us. Our souls, dependent upon their nurture, now shrink, wizened. Our minds, formed and informed by their radiance,
 fall away. We are not so much maddened as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
 of dark, cold caves. And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly. Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration. Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us. They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.

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