From the Wall Street Journal

In Hoc Anno Domini
Vermont Royster's annual Christmas message.

This editorial was written in 1949 by the late Vermont Royster and has been published annually since.

When Saul of Tarsus set out on his journey to Damascus the whole of the known world lay in bondage. There was one state, and it was Rome. There was one master for it all, and he was Tiberius Caesar.

Everywhere there was civil order, for the arm of the Roman law was long. Everywhere there was stability, in government and in society, for the centurions saw that it was so.

But everywhere there was something else, too. There was oppression--for those who were not the friends of Tiberius Caesar. There was the tax gatherer to take the grain from the fields and the flax from the spindle to feed the legions or to fill the hungry treasury from which divine Caesar gave largess to the people. There was the impressor to find recruits for the circuses. There were executioners to quiet those whom the Emperor proscribed. What was a man for but to serve Caesar?

There was the persecution of men who dared think differently, who heard strange voices or read strange manuscripts. There was enslavement of men whose tribes came not from Rome, disdain for those who did not have the familiar visage. And most of all, there was everywhere a contempt for human life. What, to the strong, was one man more or less in a crowded world?

Then, of a sudden, there was a light in the world, and a man from Galilee saying, Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's and unto God the things that are God's.

And the voice from Galilee, which would defy Caesar, offered a new Kingdom in which each man could walk upright and bow to none but his God. Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. And he sent this gospel of the Kingdom of Man into the uttermost ends of the earth.

So the light came into the world and the men who lived in darkness were afraid, and they tried to lower a curtain so that man would still believe salvation lay with the leaders.

But it came to pass for a while in divers places that the truth did set man free, although the men of darkness were offended and they tried to put out the light. The voice said, Haste ye. Walk while you have the light, lest darkness come upon you, for he that walketh in darkness knoweth not whither he goeth.

Along the road to Damascus the light shone brightly. But afterward Paul of Tarsus, too, was sore afraid. He feared that other Caesars, other prophets, might one day persuade men that man was nothing save a servant unto them, that men might yield up their birthright from God for pottage and walk no more in freedom.

Then might it come to pass that darkness would settle again over the lands and there would be a burning of books and men would think only of what they should eat and what they should wear, and would give heed only to new Caesars and to false prophets. Then might it come to pass that men would not look upward to see even a winter's star in the East, and once more, there would be no light at all in the darkness.

And so Paul, the apostle of the Son of Man, spoke to his brethren, the Galatians, the words he would have us remember afterward in each of the years of his Lord:

Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ has made us free and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.

Ouch

Just a few hours ago I decided to go for a run outside. I bundled up with Underarmour and all and went out along the same circle around my neighborhood that I've ran for years. Halfway through I tripped along an uneven part of the sidewalk and fell.

I felt my face grind along the sidewalk concrete as I slid to a halt.

I didn't feel anything immediately but as I got up I saw my blood drip down from my face and dot the sidewalk.

My upper lip is pretty swollen right now and I really hope this doesn't leave a nasty scar on my face. It looks like a chunk is missing...

Home again

Wow I'm pretty bad at updating. Its so odd. I only left NYC earlier this morning and yet it feels like its already been 2 days since I left. Such an odd feeling. I can only imagine how winter break is going to feel in the coming days. It seems like such a short stint and yet it probably will feel like an eternity. Best to come up with a list of stuff to do!

1. Get back in shape: My little sister told me that my face got rounder o_0

2. Read: I actually have time to read for leisure? That's unbelievable

3. Study: say wha? Yeah I should probably brush up on Chinese so that I can break my A- streak.

4. Try cooking some stuff: Still trying to perfect my nacho dip recipe and I think it would be nice to equip myself with some other recipes for the upcoming semester. My default meal during this whole past semester was spaghetti. Perhaps that had something to do with the formulation of goal 1.

5. Other: Who knows what else I could do? Maybe I'll take a stab at crocheting, start drawing again, or maybe even make a genuine attempt to make that mini movie I've been contemplating aboot.

I guess I should say something about this past semester. It was...interesting. Probably one of the most busiest ones yet. I was asked shortly before I left NYC what year of college I liked the best so far. I really couldn't answer that question since every year had its downsides but also its amazing redeeming qualities that make the downsides seem like little picky insignificant things. This semester was no different. You live and you learn. And you pray. And love. And there's a whole new semester right around the corner. But for now I'm going to enjoy the much needed rest.

Awesome.

Sicklerville and Cavalry

Just a few thoughts that came about over the past few days...

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I don't know why, but every time I return home, NYC just seems like a dream I woke out of. Returning to the motions of life in Sicklerville is almost too easy but in a way I find it so refreshing.

I went with dad to go pick up a couple bushels of corn feed last weekend. I guess I really have been in the city for far too long because I just found it so enjoyable - sitting in the passenger seat of our SUV and driving along from the suburbs of Sicklerville into the countryside of Elmer. It wasn't anything new --I've done this a number of times through the years -- but I found quite a deal of enjoyment in going through the familiar. Unlike the nipping cold of the past few NYC days, the weather was actually quite admirable for fall weather. I saw a couple birds of prey flying over the long expanse of fields (dad kept identifying them as turkey vultures but I'm pretty sure they're something else).

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According to my Catholic faith, last Sunday was All Soul's Day, a time to remember and pray for the dearly departed. I decided to accompany my friends from Newman Club to Calvary Cemetery for a service project: to clean the stained tombstones of the dead. It may sound like a very morbid activity but if you actually saw the place, you would see how peaceful and serene the place really was.

I suppose three things caught my attention that day:

- As we were walking around the large cemetery (its one of the largest three cemeteries in the country), we come upon a statue of Rachel weeping for her children (Jeremiah 31:15). It was erected for all the dead unborn children. The first detail I noticed was that someone had hung a rosary around her neck. The second detail I noticed was that their were water stains beneath her eyes which made it appear that she actually was crying...

- When we began cleaning the tombstones with ammonia and water, I was amazed at how old some of the tombstones were (I believe the oldest birth date I saw was around 1803). As I continued to read off the dates I realized that many of the tombstones we were cleaning were those of very young individuals. The first few I noticed were young men and women who were our age. And then I started finding those of teenagers. Danielle Ngo then came upon one that once had little figurine attached to the top. It had broken into three pieces which were then laid against the tombstone. Curious, we attempted to re-assemble the piece and found it to be that of a child. We looked at the tombstone and saw that it was a girl with the last name McCabe (the first name had long since faded with time). She was 12 years old.

- Once we had done what we could and made our way out, we began to take notice of some of the designs of some of the mausoleums and large ornate tombstones that had some very intricate and beautiful designs and figures. Amidst a number of old tombstones near the exit I noticed one tombstone that seemed a lot newer than the others surrounding it.

The date of birth read something along the lines of "February 1, 1983."
The date of death read something along the lines of "March 9, 1983."

The child was barely three months old.


"Oh my Jesus forgive us our sins.
Save us from the fires of Hell.
And lead all souls to Heaven
Especially those in most need of Thy mercy.

Amen."

The Maker

My body

is bent and broken

By long and dangerous sleep
I can work the fields of Abraham
and turn my head away
I'm not a stranger in the eyes of the Maker

- excerpt from The Maker by Daniel Lanois

Push

"But each land, each boundary I cross lets drip away another illusion. I sense, death will be the last. Yet still I push harder and harder to reach this... home."

I suppose that's a quote I will never get tired of.

I'm very tempted to delve deeper into the meaning but I feel that it'd best not to. Perhaps, its because the quote is simply all that needs to be said.

Just push.

First Fig by Edna St Vincent Millay

My candle burns at both ends;

It will not last the night;

But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends-

It gives a lovely light.

Beautiful.

Don't go forgetting now..

Yes, I know girls fart

They also poop and burp.

Ah yes, its lesson I've learned well thanks to all the wonderful ladies I've come to know in college (you know who you are).

And yet when you witness your 75-year old grandmother rip one, its nothing but shock. And I'm not talking about a dainty little passing of gas. I'm talking about a level 10 eruption of methane that would make any dude's jaw drop.

Silly grandma Pineda.


Still in shock,

DP

Doubt

Jeanne d'Arc otherwise known as Joan of Arc. Her story is an interesting one - a peasant teenage girl who, having claimed divine inspiration and visions from God, led French forces to key victories during the Hundred Year's War which indirectly led to long awaited coronation of King Charles VII. Captured by the English she was tried for witchcraft and burned at the stake for heresy. Years later she was found innocent and later canonized as a saint.

I was flipping through TV channels when I came across The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc. I remembered seeing it before when it had first came out on video and thought it had cleverly portrayed her story - you could why she was considered a saint and yet at the same time, a lunatic.

However, I don't consider Jeanne to be the most dynamic character of the movie.

As Jeanne is imprisoned in England and awaiting interrogation, a hooded figure (played by Dustin Hoffman) starts appearing to her, questioning her visions and motives that she claims are from God.

When I first saw this movie I remember identifying his character as the devil, toying with Jeanne, trying to crush her faith in God. However, watching it again I had second thoughts. Hoffman's character, though eerie and dark in appearance, pointed out much of Jeanne's selfishness, her implicit desire for vengeance. He even prayed for Jeanne when the priests had refused her absolution. Was it really the devil trying to inflict doubt in her and offering her a sense of false comfort? Or was he an genuine angel, trying to reveal to Jeanne the error of her discernment before it was too late? Hoffman's identity is never explicitly identified during the movie, though he is credited as The Conscience. Whether or not he is the devil on your one shoulder or the angel on the other is portrayed just as well (and as ambiguously) as Jeanne's classification as a saint or heretic.



That morning, I had woken up with a strange feeling of fear. Or was it doubt? I was CIFC president, I felt that there were things God was really calling me to do with it. But was it really God's call? Or was it what I thought was God's call? Doubt is an integral part of faith. Discernment is an important thing to understand and respect. It all takes prayer and the ability to really look into your heart honestly. You'll have to pray very truthfully and humbly that God shows His will, that He shows you what is.

And not see what you want to see.

To speak less but mean more

I went to Mass today at my home church and had the pleasure of hearing our pastor (head priest) Father Tracy give the homily (sermon).

Homilies by Father Tracy always stood out to me. Maybe its because he's the the head pastor. Maybe its because he's the oldest among the church staff (I can't really guess how old he is, definitely a lot older than PB that's for sure). Maybe he's more in tune with the Spirit and says something that's always relevant. I'm not really sure. However, there is one image that is still ingrained in my memory:

Last summer, my mom had become a part of the lector ministry at my church and I ended up accompanying her to the early 7:30 AM service. As was necessary, we arrived a little early and to no surprise there weren't a lot of people. But there was Father Tracy, sitting in the front pew. Usually, Father Tracy is up and about, making his rounds around the church, greeting the people who arrived, asking how well they were doing and whatnot. But on this particular morning, he was just sitting there quietly to himself, a slight smile on his face, admiring something. At my home church (and the majority of Catholic churches), there is a crucifix adorning the front of the church and I realized that was what he was looking at, its appearance accentuated by the light of dawn shining in from the top of the church. I could tell that the leader of this church was having his moment with God. As CIFC president, its an image that poses a great example to me.

When I was listening Father Tracy speak today, I couldn't help but compare him to Pastor Bruce. Yes, he and PB share that passion for God and the big heart for ministering to His people, and yet he is almost everything that Pastor Bruce isn't. You see, PB's sermons are...well they're PB's. PB is able to put out such an energy when he speaks at times, undoubtedly the result of his passion and conviction for God, and thus he can make the organized Spirit-guided points he has in his notes ring in your heart as much as his yelling does in your ears. I look at Father Tracy and to be honest, if he were to try and match PB's energy and volume, he'd probably end up hurting himself.

And yet when this tiny old man speaks at the front of this church, what he says can resonate in your heart just as much. His voice doesn't go beyond a certain volume, but he speaks with such a reassuring and loving tone that you'd expect from a grandfather or a mother even, which goes to accentuate his personality as a person who you could never picture with anything other than a smile on his face. The duration of his homilies aren't even half as long as PB's sermons - they're kept simple and short so that you don't really need to take notes. In fact, taking notes would probably hinder you from listening to the message. His presence is just as his speech - plain and simple. He doesn't have any notes in his hands since he already knows all of what he is to say. He doesn't carry the Bible because it has already been read and it now lies on him to not quote it word for word but to tell us what it wants to tell us. He comes plainly as he is - the only time I remember him holding something was when he had picked a flower outside the church to help illustrate Christ as the "living water." I'm pretty sure that he practices what he says ahead of time but I can't help but sense an strong calmness in him that seems to say that "speaking from the heart isn't something you necessarily practice but something you just do."

Of course, I'm not saying PB doesn't do this either, by all means he pours out his heart as much as possible. I guess what I'm highlighting here is something that comes with time. A sort of simplification of life that comes from experiencing Love and God over and over again, y'know? Its a stripping of the unnecessary, until you get down to the stuff that really matters. By all means, yes, there is a time for bringing up the exact wording of this verse or citing this source and whatnot. But I guess one will eventually ask what really matters more? For example, word for word, what this one piece of Scripture says? Or what that Scripture means? This concept is something that applies to everything really, not just God, though God made everything so it all kinda goes back to Him anyway. But its a concept that Father Tracy had learned and is still learning. Its something PB is learning. Its something we're all learning.

To speak less but mean more.

I guess that the best example of this concept is something I hear from people closest to me, something that I would probably say to you, something we have to realize that God says to us everyday:

"I love you."

I'm gonna leave this world for a while..

You know it really amazes me how sometimes a song can catch you because a single line of that song, just a single line, can bear such a multi-faceted meaning to you.


I wasn't intending to post videos and whatnot on here in an attempt to keep this blog as strictly my thoughts on things. But the song kinda sets the tone of what I would've said better than my words alone would have. Again, that one line is the only lyric that really matters to me (since I bet you'll start pondering if you hear the rest of the song).

Oh and the cinematography is just really nice.

Laziness is a sin...

....so that means you should probably be doing work instead of reading this, NANCY!

hahaha.



But if you have time for leisure then by all means enjoy this blog. =)

Post 20th Birthday Thoughts

During the week leading up to my birthday, I thinking about what I would do and learn during my 20s. I came up with a little theoretical model on life.

When you're a kid you say the darndest things. You play pretend. You say I want this or I want to be that without much thought. When you're a kid you learn to dream.

When you're a teenager you pretty much go through trial and error. You take the time to actually think. You'll think about this and then try that. When you're a teenager you learn how to get something done and what needs to get done.

Looking back at what I've lived through I can only make this assumption about not being a teenager anymore and now becoming an adult:
When you're an adult you know what needs to get done and how to get it done. Its now up to you whether or not you have the audacity to make those dreams you had as a kid come true.
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On the morning of my birthday, I shared with my mom my little theory and she said it was pretty much true. We talked a bit and she was just reminded of how I was growing up. She actually started to cry, having thought about the times that she couldn't give me what I wanted at times since we were financially struggling or some other unfortunate circumstances.

I assured her that while she couldn't always give me what I wanted, she always provided what I needed. However, I still felt a little guilty for getting older.
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Also sn the day of my birthday, my grandmother came back from her morning walk. She walked in with a smile on her face and told me about how she was walking and thought about what a beautiful day it was and how she was thanking God for the day. She apparently passed by someone she described as a "big black lady" and instead of saying "hello" she said "Praise the Lord!" To my surprise, my grandmother said that the "big black lady" smiled back and replied:

"I was thinking the exact same thing!"

wow.
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As for my excursion in New York City, I think that productive would probably be the best way to describe. I look at it as somewhat ironic: each birthday I've witnessed usually involves people "surprising" the birthday celebrant but in the case of mine I ended up being the one catching everyone off guard. I didn't really tell anyone that I was coming into the city since it kinda was a last minute decision and I wanted to ease my way back into seeing people (due to personal reasons). I decided to take some personal time in the city first, having gone to Shake Shack and the Met on my own (both of which I had never done before). Some people caught on to my presence in the city but my idea of the diffusion of information didn't work out as I thought it would. I tried my best to see what people I could but I was very surprised by how people still kept themselves so busy in New York City during the summer and still failed to see each other. So, in a way, my time there, though nice, left me somewhat unsatisfied, as if the trip were incomplete. It seems that nowadays that there's a cost for everything you do -- doing one thing ultimately results in sacrificing your oppurtunity for accomplishing something else. I'm trying not to think that way though. I don't know if that's the right thing to do.

Thanks for tuning in,

DP

Shock, Awe, Possibilities, and Abnormally Normal

"If you become so refined that you refine yourself out of the game --the game of life-- then you're doing things that are so esoteric that they don't satisfy anybody else but you."
- John Mayer

Lately, I've been on a voluntary MIA status. No, I'm not burned out, not really. I suppose that after going through a very eventful year and being so busy that you don't really have the chance to comprehend what's really happening to you, the facts of these matters eventually catch up to you when you have a significant period of down time. And wow the past months really gave me my fill. What I find so amazing about this though is that there would have been no way I would've made it through all that hadn't it been for God. And so I find myself somewhat in a state of shock and awe and am taking time off from others to sort through the mess of thoughts that is myself and sophomore year.


I suppose that when you do something like that you tend to realize --or rather recover -- a lot about yourself, especially if you take yourself out of the picture (in my case NYC) and take it all in retrospect. Of course, you'll see the apparent mistakes you've made and you might even laugh at them. But at the same time you'll see the little nuances that raise an eyebrow and have you wondering what in the hell were you thinking. And with each cock of that eyebrow you come to realize just how much you've changed and how by some strange feat you've changed yourself without even noticing.

One interesting aspect about myself this past year was how I came in with such fervor and resolve to really be myself and not really care about what others thought of me. To some extent I really accomplished that: I feel that I'm acknowledged more so as the guy called "Dan" or "Pineda "and not the clown named "Paco." And I suppose I should acknowledge that my self-confidence has increased a little bit.

However, I remember all the goals and driven plans I had at the beginning of the year and I frown at how I never really fueled them. I realize just how much I allowed people to get in the way of that somehow. Now by no means do I frown at the people around me, they've been a great help and encouragement, but rather I frown at my lack of integrity, my lack of resolve to keep going when others didn't really have such a resolve or to some degree called me silly. These weren't put downs by any intent but rather people trying to give me a reality check, however I realize that much of the "reality" they spoke of was doubts in my determination or willingness, beliefs that it'll probably "fall through."

Coming home and being to myself, I have rekindled those goals and plans since my thoughts have a lot more space here in Sicklerville to see the routes to possibility. And with this re-lighting I guess a little rebelliousness grew as well, a willingness and urge to reject the norm. I guess I have to admit I like proving people wrong. However, I came across the above quote when listening to a Rolling Stone podcast and I have to admit that is somewhat true. With a CIFC presidency now in effect, it should come to no surprise that I've been praying for guidance and for my heart to be molded into that of a leader and I think this little quote that God made me come upon was definitely a wake me up. Of course, we're taught to not care about what other people think and to refine ourselves so as to take pride in who we are. However, at the same time, I feel like we have this sense of responsibility to not refine ourselves so much out of this game of life, especially if you are trying to reach people. Be you an artist or politician or anyone wanting to have a significant amount of influence among people you must, in a sense, remain as normal as possible so as people understand and can relate to you. But at the same time you must set yourself apart.

I suppose that's why Obama won the Democratic nomination, having been able to be incredibly radical and yet appeal to the norm, that's why Hilary had somewhat of a comeback earlier on in her campaign after she cried, because her tears showed her at her most human. And probably the most important example, which seems to justify this point, is how Christ came not as an all powerful king (in the worldly sense) but as a commoner, gaining so much greater influence and awe because he made himself as "normal" as possible but at the same time being something so much greater than "normal."

So my challenge now is to keep this sense of rebelliousness of being me but at the same time being mindful so as to relate to people. To be as normal as normal is but at the same time not sacrificing the self. Interesting indeed.

Cheers,

DP

It's either a Mayer improv or a Death Cab tune

Every little thing's gonna be alright.
Every little thing's gonna be alright.
Oh every little thing's gonna be alright.
What can I control?
What can I control?
Nothing. Nothing.
I might as well fall.
I might as well let go.
I might as well fall.
Stop holding on
To every little thing
Every little thing..

Blind Sound

So its been over a month (probably over two months but I lost count) since I broke my glasses and have resorted to a combination of wearing contact lenses and squinting and stumbling to get by. Of course, I got a number of criticisms - one person said I was probably just straining my eyes more than I needed to, another said I should start a charitable fund, and someone even gave me a chopstick to tape to the side so that I would have something to hold what was left of my glasses up. Either way,all just flat out said "Dude, get your glasses fixed."

However, there is something different when you can't see. Over this time of barely being able to see 2 feet in front of me, I've gained a new sense of awareness really. No, I'm not like Daredevil and can close my eyes and visualize everything based upon vibrations and sound waves. But I have realized just how sight is a factor among all things. Many times we are focused on what's in our line of sight but when you take that away to some degree you actually "see" more. I've seen my behavior change where my attention and focus has shifted from sight to sound and it has revealed to me a number of things I was not aware of before. When out and about in the city streets it was things no longer "caught my eye" but rather sounds "caught my ear," as awkward as that may seem. Now I'll know the presence of people loitering before I even see them, I'll know when a college student approaches from the vernacular and energy of their voice, I'll know people in a rush by the sound of their feet hitting hte ground. Not to say I haven't been able to decipher such things from sounds before but they've been put more so in the forefront. Another interesting development is that with my sight reduced to a point where I can't clearly see one's face I instead recognize people by other manenrisms, the way they walk, their voice. Strangely enough, I've realized more characteristics of people that were not as obvious when I just focused on them with my eyes.

Trust me, as a guy who tends to realize even the smallest insignificant details, that's saying a lot.

And don't worry, I'm in the works of getting a new pair of glasses.

Goals for 2008 - 2009

a.k.a. For Jeannie (although I already came up with this list long before I nagged her into making her own list upon which she requested my own list out of spite of being forced to write hers..)

1. Musical
   
1. Lessons?
2. Expand musicology knowledge
3. Work on singing lol
4. John Mayer concert?

2. Get back in shape!
1. Running
2. Weight Training
3. Isopure

3. Pray!
1. Improve upon QTs
2. Go to Confession!

4. CIFC/Apprenticeship
1. PRAY on it
   
2. Find source of funding for CCW
   
3. Get in contact with respective individuals
4. See CIFC Meeting minutes/updates from Sharon

5. Style
1. Get a watch (a nice one, scratch that, a cool one!)
2. Shoes
3. Get a Canon Rebel camera

6. Find a job/internship
1. Philadelphia or surrounding area
2. Prepare for internships Fall semester?

7. Educational
1. Personal research on Economics, Chinese, and Computer Science
2. Master Adobe Applications Suite (particularly Dreamweaver and Photoshop)
   
3. Microsoft Works Certification?

There Jeannie.

Ripples in the Water

I consider water to be one of the more interesting things in existence. Scientifically speaking, water is just two hydrogen atoms bonded to one oxygen atom, H2O. Water is considered to be a necessary component for the existence of life. Water is a solvent for a wide variety of chemical substances and used as a base for many types of scientific experiments and measurements.

However, going beyond the existence of a substance, interestingly enough, water may be considered a concept. Water as a liquid has the incredible ability to assume any shape. Put water into a bottle, it becomes the bottle. Put water into a tea pot it becomes the teapot. It can move in a variety of manners. Water can flow as a river, creep like a spill, drip like a runny faucet. Yet it can also crash as a powerful tsunami. Water can be cold as ice or as hot as fire. Water can save a man from thirst or drown him which ultimately leads to the idea that water may be considered to have no inherent sense of morality - of course, what does (except for God and Satan, Heaven and Hell)?

Probably my sentiments gravitate towards this concept because I find it easily relates to life. Life in itself is many times unpredictable, changing its dynamics and shape much like water going into a cup or water freezing into a block of ice. Life can be a warm sooting bath, or its immenseness can drown us indefinitely. Probably one of the more beautiful things about life is that, like a river, it can flowing laboriously, stretching across vast expanses and even branching into different facets of existence. However, regardless of where they reach, they always make their way back into the ocean, much like how each and every one of us are essentially making our ways to something Greater than ourselves.

Throw a stone into a pond and almost immediately you'll see the surface of the water erupt into chaos. Upon impact, there is a momentary hole within the medium of water but somehow this void miraculously heals itself and the water is restored to a perfect stillness. However, the stone still remains, the composition of what lies beneath the tranquil surface is forever changed.

Change in our lives never really comes without a shaking of the world (whose definition varies for each individual and each individual situation). Everyone at some point or another wishes that change, in some sense, would not occur - we wish to freeze just one moment of life and hold onto it forever. But a still unflowing pond will eventually fester and grow corrupt while a free flowing river will remain clean and clear. And so life must change, it must move on or else we find our lives stale. And so we feel the stones that are thrown into our ponds, and deal with the wounds to our peaceful surface. Life shaking punctures that emanate into these momentary capillary waves.

This blog will be my comments on these ripples in the water.