Daily Journal-- 3/30/11

The clock winked mockingly at me. It knew I wanted it to stop moving, but I know it wouldn't adhear to my request. I wanted it to go back an hour... a day... a year. I wanted to own it, and decide when it moved forward, and when it moved backward. I watched the clock for a while. The funny thing about time is that no matter what we do, it will always run out. Sure, time is infinite, but our time isn't. So if time is so precious, how come we waste it so much? How come we waste hours of our lives stressing over meaningless material things. Why can't we just live? If I knew that my time would run out tomorrow, I would be living life to the fullest. However, I assume my time won't run out for another 60 or more years.. so I live life differently? It doesn't make sense, because no matter how we live our lives, death is inevitable. Time is bound to run out, so we our bound to time. We are all slaves of time. I was taught at a young age to budget my time well, and that time is money. Like my good friend J. Cole says "Time is money, so I cannot waste a dime or a second." We all do waste both though. This is a boring topic, sorry.

Daily Journal-- 3/29/11

My Spring Break was not very spring-like. It consisted of watching basketball games, driving through snowy weather, and wearing winter coats; all things that are predominately done in the Winter. Sure enough, when everyone came back from their trips, the weather started to get better. However, to people who came from Mexico back to Minnesota, it probably seemed freezing. In that sense, I'm happy I didn't go anywhere for Spring Break. It sure would have sucked to come back to cold temperatures, as opposed to just experiencing consistent cold temperatures.

The Friday that school let out, I was on my way up to Moorhead, Minnesota with my brother Evan. He was accompanying me on my trip, because the next day would be the admitted freshman day at Concordia College, and I wanted someone to go with. We met up with my grandma and her boyfriend in Fargo that night, and she took us to the mall to get something to eat and buy us some new clothes. We stayed in a hotel that had a mini golf course in it, which was kind of chill. The next morning at Concordia, it was very cold and rainy. I still had a good time up there, and enjoyed seeing the campus that I would be spending my next year at. When I got home I met up with some friends and we went to Buffalo Wild Wings to watch some basketball games. I went to see the movie Limitless the next night, which sucked ass. I had work three of the nights over Spring Break, which would have been unfortunate if there was actually something better to do.

Although only a few of my friends were home over Spring Break, I definitely miss it. There was a lot of time to relax, and not have to worry about things like homework, work, or high school drama. It was a very chill break, but I do which I could have gone to Mexico or Florida and got a little bit of sunlight. The good news is that the snow is melting fairly quickly which means that I will be playing beach volleyball up at Johnny Cake in no time. I can't wait for the summer either, and all of the parties and what not. Cool.

Daily Journal-- 3/28/11

I am a spoon in a dishwasher. Everybody knows that I'm the most attractive spoon in the whole machine. Every other spoon is jealous of me because they are covered in yogurt or peanut butter stains. However, my previous existence was scooping ice cubes out of the Ice Drawer and into a cup. Although it was cold conditions that I was working in, the ice melted quickly off of my sterling silver coating. I was back to normal in no time, which made me question why I was even in the dish washer. All I needed was a couple seconds of drying in a warm towel (my favorite treatment) and I'd be good. Instead, I was stuck here with all of these imperfect spoons. It was almost insulting. It wasn't bad being a spoon. We didn't have to go through nearly as much difficult labor as a knife or fork did. However, people were always licking me, which I found disgusting. The one nice thing about being in the dishwasher was the drying, after the rinsing. The rinse was so hot that it corroded the silver coating off of one of my friends before. However, the cool breezes of air that ensued were always very enjoyable.

Daily Journal-- 3/17/11

I once dreamed about being an ant. As a matter of fact, it was more of a reoccuring dream. I think it initially came as the result of me watching the Disney movie, "A Bug's Life." All of my neighborhood friends starred as the cast of this dream, and we were a united colony of ants. Our parents happened to be the grasshopper enemies. We would play baseball (don't ask me how ants played baseball) and go swimming all day. By dinner time we would go out in search of various pieces of nature or dead flies. That's where we ran into trouble. The grasshopper clan had it in their head that the dead flies were reserved for their own stomachs, so no ants should have the right to "steal" from them. Regardless, we made an effort to steal the dead flies from the grasshoppers. We knew we would have to be quick about it, so we would run in and then sprint out and hide under an umbrella-style plant. We would see the giant grasshoppers through the little cracks in the leaves of the plant, as they walked by searching for us. It was so frightening to me when I was younger, just the thought of being caught by these grasshoppers. And of course, the conclusion of every one of these dreams was me being caught by a grasshopper and taken away. He would throw me up in the air, and I would fall painfully on my back. However, right before I was about to hit the ground, I would wake up from the dream with heavy breathes.

To this day, I don't understand the symbolism behind this reoccuring dream. Maybe it is that the neighborhood has to stick together, or maybe it is that my parents will always catch me when I am up to no good. Regardless, I still have this dream from time to time. It only occurs about once a year, but I have become a lot less fearful of the grasshoppers over the years. I think that in itself has some symbolism, too. I care less about getting caught by my parents now-a-days, because I am becoming an adult and can make decisions for myself. My neighborhood crew has kind of grown apart over the high school years, but they are still my protective body in a lot of ways. Whenever I am down, or in a bad mood, they cheer me up. Whenever my parents are yelling at me, and I need somewhere to go, they're there for me. Whenever I am having a bad day, and wish to reminisce, my mind always travels to the various adventures we had in our younger days. It's nice to have that protective body to defend against the various "grasshoppers" in life. Whether they be parents, bullies, drama, anxiety, sadness, whatever... they are still no match for my ants (sorry, that was corny).

Daily Journal-- 3/16/11

I wish someone had told me how to deal with stuff. I've made a lot of bad decisions as a result of my anxiety, because I was never really told of appropriate coping methods. Even the doctor's prescription for anxiety-related problems is a drug. Little do doctors know that no drug can really combat an illness. Drugs simply make it seem as if the illness is gone for a while, so their patient is satisfied and they keep making money. Everything that a doctor does to help a patient only reaches the surface. I wish someone had told me how to get to the core of my problem. I wish someone had told me how quickly life moves, and how necessary it is to be on top of things. I've let a lot of my loved ones vacate my life, because I didn't show enough appreciation for them. I'm prone to getting too caught up in the smaller things in life, and not seeing the big picture. I stopped going to Church. I stopped relaxing. I stopped trying to mantain relationships that I assumed needed too much maintenance and would inevidably end. I wish that life would slow down. When I was younger everything seemed a lot slower. Nobody was in a rush, because nobody had anywhere else to be. Everything was so trivial then. Those were the days where I would wake up around 6 AM on weekends, just to lengthen my day. Now, I will sleep as late as noon when given the opportunity, because I'd rather lengthen my sleep. I'd rather lengthen my dreams. I don't remember any of my dreams from when I was a child, because I think I did a lot less dreaming then. Dreams are for people who wish to make changes in their life. Dreams are for those who are unsatisfied with their own position in existence. I used to be perfectly content with life. Now I have so many dreams, and unfulfilled plights. It's weird.

Brainstorming SCI-FI project

Ideas for why/how he gets frozen:
-Gets frozen with cyrogenic materials
-His professor at College is using him as a sample, for part of a research study
-Professor Green calls him down to Lyndale Unversity for the Summer, is discrete about the reason
-He is told that the materials will freeze him for 3 weeks, and it is merely supposed to be a test to see how the materials work. It ends up that he is frozen for 100 years.

What he wil see
-People will be moving around in hover crafts, and air travel will be space travel
-Neighborhoods are established on the Moon
-Extraterrestrials live on Earth, and they are now seen as "foreigners," but if they live in the U.S. for 5 years they are guaranteed citizenship.
-The population of the Earth has decreased, to about 3 billion. The population of Space is about 5 billion known people
-Space and Earth on the verge of a mass war.

Daily Journal-- 3/15/11

It was time for the moment of truth. I started ripping the seal on the mustard-colored envelope. I pulled out a thick, embroidered piece of paper that was composed by a tri-fold. I opened up the folds, looked down at the paper, and jumped in the air, screaming. "YES!!" I had done it; No D's. My father promised me if I managed to keep up my grades, and mantain at least a 3.0, with no D's this semester then he would buy me a car. I was ecstatic.

When I got home that day, I showed my dad my accomplishment and he gave me a big bear hug. He told me to get in his car, because we were heading over to the Andy's Used-Car Dealership. I had never seen such a vast assortment of cars. Pick up trucks, minivans, sports cars, convertables, and even a few creeper-vans. I had no idea which one to pick, but I knew that the right one would catch my eye, and it would be a case of love at first sight. We went through row after row of old cars, and I still hadn't found my match yet. Until, out of my peripheral vision, I spotted the most glorious automobile I had ever laid eyes on. It was a giant shoe on wheels.

"Dad, I think I'm in love."

He bought the car for me, which surprisingly only cost 100 dollars. Maybe it was so inexpensive because it was a gas-guzzler. Regardless, I was very happy with the purchase. I would drive around town all day and night in that shoe-car. I named him Nike. I would take Nike to school with me, go see drive in movies with Nike, and my first time having sex was in the backseat of Nike. Undoubtedly, Nike was the best purchase I could have imagined. Not only was he sleek and stylish, he was comfortable and unique. And he was all mine!

Daily Journal-- 3/14/11

"My Journey on a Pirate Ship"

It was my first time on a cruise ship. Given my fear of the ocean, it took a lot of convincing from my parents that a cruise would be extremely safe, and nothing bad could happen. She was so wrong.

The trip started out great. I was worried that I would get motion sickness, but the rocking of the waves actually played into my advantage, as it lulled me to sleep most nights. There was food galore, with various assortments of pizza places, ice cream parlors, and burger joints. On the outside of the ship, there were three salt water pools on top of the boat, a rocking climbing wall in the front, and a basketball court in the back. I was in heaven for the first two days. However, on the third day it was a whole different story.

I woke up abruptly in the morning, and went to the tiny bathroom in the wall to wash my face. It was until about ten minutes of sitting in bed that I realized we weren't moving anymore. I grabbed my iPod off of the counter to check the time. It was 4 o'clock. My brother and sister were still asleep on the bunk bed to the left of me. I wanted to figure out what was going on, so I woke up Evan from the top bunk, and told him to come check out the ship with me. He grunted a little bit, but then slipped on his shoes and headed out of the cabin with me. We strolled past my parents room, and kept going towards the center of the boat. We climbed all the way to the 11th floor, which was where the pool resided. As I looked out to my left, I was in awe. There was a black flag with a skull imprinted on it waving about 100 yards away from our boat. Between our cruise ship, and the ship next to us, there was a long rope that seemed to work like a zipline. I saw one masked man after another floating across the night air, from the small ship to our ship. I had to slap myself a couple of times to realize I wasn't dreaming. I felt a gun on my spine, and turned around to see a masked pool of blackness.

"You're coming with me," he said.

Evan and I were taken over to the side of the cruise ship, that was adjacent to the rope that the pirates used to get aboard our ship. My hands were cuffed with a silver chain, which i had to use to lock around the ropem and zipline over to the other ship. Those 10 seconds that I was suspended in the air over the dark sea, were the scariest 10 seconds of my life. If I wasn't so deathly afraid of sharks and whales, I may have decided to jump, and succumb to my inevitable fate of death. However, I stayed on the rope.

Daily Journal-- 3/10/11

"I caught a big one!"

I looked over to see Dave holding what looked to be a fifty-pound rabbit. He was so ecstatic about his catch that I hated to bring him down by telling him we were supposed to be hunting for deer. Apparently Dave had wandered off when we were hiking of Peak Point, and found a rabbit's burrow behind a patch of oak trees. Dave said that there were approximately one hundred rabbits nestled together in that burrow, but he only picked up his favorite one. This rabbit was the equivalence of about ten rabbits combined. It's ears alone were about two feet each in height. I had never eaten rabbit before, but consuming this animal would be more like eating a product from a cow. We packed up our materials, with each of the ten men who came on the trip bringing an animal home. The eight other men, and I proudly housted a deer carcus on our back. Dave carried his rabbit by the fur on the back.

The funniest part was that Dave hadn't even killed the animal. He claimed that killing a rabbit of this size, would be like killing Big Foot. I couldn't argue with that. He also told us of his plan; Dave didn't plan on consuming this animal. He wanted to make it a domesticated pet. When we got back to the city, Dave showed everyone of his great feat. Some applauded, some dropped their jaws in shock, but everyone was amazed by the size of this gigantic forest creature. When Dave brought the rabbit home, his wife was not impressed. She said that if Dave wanted to keep the rabbit (now named "Notorious B.I.G Fuzzy"), then he would have to sleep outside with BIG. Dave didn't argue with that. Dave and BIG became great friends. BIG was there to console Dave when Dave's wife divorced him, and Dave was there to teach BIG how to speak english. The largest rabbit in the city's history had also became the first rabbit to ever talk. Dave won a Nobel Peace Prize five years later for house-training, and teaching english to BIG. BIG was even going to Kindergarten and learning how to function as a social being.

Daily Journal-- 3/9/11

It was a typical Friday at work for Spongebob. Mr. Krabs was being his usual self, and the ordering line was way too long for Squidward to handle, himself. That left Spongebob with two tasks: preparing food, and helping Squidward at the checkout line. Spongebob was flipping patties on the stove, when Squidward yelled for his attention.

"Spongebob! Help me out up here!"

Spongebob went dashing over to the counter and started taking orders of the impatient customers. He must have been up there for about ten minutes before being allowed to go back to the kitchen to flip more burgers. When he did go back, though, it was awful. His jaw dropped, his legs started shaking, and his eyes cringed. His beloved spatula was gone.

"I know I left you right on the counter, where could you be!"

Spongebob frantically searched under every crevase in the counter top, on the floor, under the stall of the bathroom, in every drawer, and through every cubbie near the cooking station. Nothing. The orders kept piling up, however, and he was forced to take action quick. Spongebob looked around the kitchen for something else that could help him flip the burgers that he needed to cook. No shiny utensils were in sight, so he looked down at his hand. "You'll have to do," he said.

He quickly slid his hand under the first burger, by wedging his five fingers into a parallel sheet that could fit between the burger and the stove. He pushed up on the burger, which sent the meat flying in the air, only to land back down on the other, uncooked side. It was genius. Spongebob continued this motion for the other thirty burgers on top of the stove, and he was making great time! Krabby patty after krabby patty were being served to the customers, who claimed that the burgers they consumed were by far "the best burger I've ever eaten." Apparently the hint of hand sweat was the perfect seasoning to a Krabby Patty.

Daily Journal-- 3/8/11

"Oh, F***."

I had seen this shredder before. It was probably about a month ago when I saw this shredder, and I knew what was about to happen. The quick sharp sensation of being split in millions of little pieces, followed by a dumping into the recycling bin. I don't remember how long we sat in that recycling bin last time, but it seemed like about four whole days. I was starving for ink, and covered in various pieces of garbage that I didn't think belonged in the recycling bin in the first place. After the fourth day of hunger and exhaustion, we were picked up and taken out of the office building. We were dumped into a larger recycling bin, filled with even more pieces of shredded paper and garbage items. Our new home was on the street, but we were only there for a night. I was forced to wake up the next morning, due to the loud buzzing that stung my ears. It sounded like an elephant was blowing its trunk right on the side of the road that we were near by. A man opened the lid of the recycling bin, looked in at me, smiled, then picked up the bin. He threw us into the largest pit of recycled items I had ever seen before. It was about a ten foot fall from where the man dumped us to where we landed in the bottom of the pit. The fall knocked me unconscious, but when I woke up I was on a conveyer belt in a large factory. The factory smelled of burnt tree (and not the good kind). I was reunited with my friend paper slices on this conveyer belt, and within 5 seconds we were re-applied together, and were one, whole piece again. We were bound together by a package with about 100 other pieces of paper, and brought back to the office we were in a week prior. It's been only three days since I was brought back to the office I called home, and once again it looked like they were sending me away. All I could do now is pray that my fate was as good as it was before, and that I would somehow end up home again.

Writing Project Outline

I will write a short story about a small town team (North Dakota State) that made the March Madness tournament and got all the way down to the final four (obviously fictional). I will use the website "Penzu," which my friend has used before so I was interested in checking it out.

Daily Journal-- 3/7/11

Marian Bartsch and Joey Catsalgi met on his first day of work. Marian was wearing her bright red skirt, that Joey would come to crave over the next couple of years. Joey approached Marian with his hand out, to properly introduce himself as the newest member of Crane, Inc. Marian smiled, said "nice to meet you," and kept walking. Within their three seconds of interaction, Joey had already grasped a whirlwind of variables about Marian. She wore a flower headband, with her long, brown hair swooping down to her shoulders. When she smiled she had two dimples on her right cheek, but only one on her left cheek. Her teeth were pearly white, and she wore very faint-colored lipstick. The one thing Joey was still mesmorized by, however, were Marian's eyes. He had never in his life seen such vibrant, green eyes, and he was compelled to look at them again. Joey, confined to his own household for the majority of his childhood, had only seen brown eyes before and so he naturally believed that every human had brown eyes. His father wasn't around for most of his growing-up, and his mother had battled with a cocaine addiction which kept Joey locked in his room, sometimes for days at a time. That being said, it's obvious to understand how he was so attracted to Marian's eyes. It's very possible that Joey had never seen anything so bright in his life, besides the sun. After Marian walked by, Joey waited a couple of seconds before turning to look back at her. He stared for at least four additional seconds, waiting to see if she would turn around to look back at him. Their eyes could meet and he could feel the sense of fascination he had just felt a couple seconds prior. Marian kept walking though. Joey turned his head in shame and walked the other way. At that moment, Marian briefly glanced over her shoulder, and watched her new co-worker walk down the hall, introducing himself to more people. Her faint smile faded, her green eyes contracted, and she turned her head back around.

Final Poem Assignment

My mind's tired from writing too much poetry,
I'm ready for its death, like I poisoned up its ovaries.
Killed the fetus, before it was even near its blossom,
I put it in the ground, like the burrow of a possom.
It tried to rise up, I shoved it back into its coffin,
Regurgitated dust from the poem's mouth when it was coughin'.
I hacked it with a sledgehammer, now it's down for ever,
Then I put myself in the coffin, too, so we can go together.

Daily Journal-- 3/4/11

The fact that I can get all the money I want won't even matter to me on my last day. All of my money goes to gas, clothes, and food. However, on my last day... I don't think I'd care about any of those things. If it were my last day on Earth, I would simply like to be with the people I love (as corny and cliche as that sounds). I would start off the day with my girlfriend. We would probably go out for a brunch-type meal, and then hang out for a couple of hours. Then I would go to the beach and play volleyball with my friends, and just live up the day. At night, I would be with my parents and siblings. That sounds like an ideal day to me, and the best part is that there would be no stress involved whatsoever. I wouldn't have to worry about studying for a test, going to work, saving up money for college, finding a job after college, making a house payment, finding a wife, financially supporting children, anything. It would just be me and the people that I care most about. For meals, I would have Brueggers in the morning, Chipotle for lunch, and.... Chipotle for dinner. That might play a toll on my digestive system the next day... but there will not be a next day, so I don't care. At night when I am lying in bed getting ready to fall asleep, I would pray for the last time. I would delete my Facebook, and Twitter. I would erase all of my messages in my AOL inbox, and then finish by giving one last blogpost, and writing one last song. I would record the song, and then put it up on the internet, so all of my friends and loved ones could get a proper "good bye." However, "good bye" doesn't ever really mean the end. I am sure in no time I would be reacquainted with them in Heaven, and we would share some of the good times that occured when we were still mortals. We would be playing Beach volleyball on the clouds, and watching out fellow loved-ones below us. My last day on Earth would not be a somber one.

Villanelle Assignment

I traveled aimlessly up the hill.
With nothing but sorrows on my back.
My body kept pushing against my will.

Cluttered mind, of the thing that I still
needed, and all the supplies that i lacked,
But still I climbed further up on the hill.

It started off as me just searching a thrill,
Fighting through pain with my empty sack,
Finding my heart that had hidden my will,

survival tactics I figured were filled,
these hindsight feelings that now were in stacks,
All because I attempted this hill.

My feet were exhausted, my brain cells were killed,
My hands in my pockets, like they had been packed,
But still strong enough, because of my will.

My head was spinning like it was a mill,
My mouth was so dry that my lips started to crack,
I finally got to the top of the hill,
Just in time for me to pen out my will.

Daily Journal-- 3/3/11

10 Most Important Points in my Life so far:

10) Birth. If I wasn't ever born, I wouldn't even be writing this list in the first place. I think that birth is a very miraculous accomplishment, and we tend to forget about how lucky we are to even be living. To think that one sperm cell met one egg, and created me...

9) Starting Basketball. When I was in kindergarten, my dad signed me up for basketball and I never would have thought how much of a role it would play in my life, because at first I absolutely hated it. Basketball took up the majority of my elementary and middle school years, and the beginning of high school, and I still miss playing everytime I watch an Eastview game.

8) Going to Blackhawk. After elementary school, my mom gave me the choice to either go to Falcon Ridge (where a lot of my friends were going) or Blackhawk. It was a tough decision, but I ended up choosing Blackhawk, and I don't regret the decision at all, because I have made some life long friendships with the people that go there, and that place really turned me into the person I am today.

7) My first mission trip. I was never a very religious or faithful person until I went on my first mission trip after Freshman year to the Lakota Indian Reservation in South Dakota. It was a great experience, and I had never felt closer to God. I haven't lost touch with my spirituality since then.

6) Speeding ticket. It was a hot summer day, and I was anxious to get home after a Cross Country meet. I was about two blocks from my house, cruising at about 50 miles per hour on a 30 mile per hour road, when an undercover cop pulled out of the Thomas Lake parking lot and fined me 120 bucks. Needless to say, I have been a much different driver ever since.

Etheree Poem Assignment

You
Think You
Know my life,
But you really
only see one side.
You only see the kid
That wears his smile on as
he talks with the fake friends of his.
You don't see the kid who spends nights home,
with his tired eyes on the white ceiling,
his arms folded across his chest, praying
that someone emphathizes with him,
and the struggle his mind creates.
The anxious thoughts that flow out
of his brain, through his hands,
Up his spine, down to
his shaky legs,
he rests near
his bed;
here.

Daily Journal-- 3/2/11

How ridiculous I was as a kid. I had a high, squeaky voice and got nervous about every little thing. I remember a speech that I had to give when I was in sixth grade, and by the time it was finished I was literally drenched in sweat from head to toe. Although I think it is silly now, and I laugh it off when people bring up my past, I still have some of the same traits that I did back then. It was discovered that I have anxiety, which makes me naturally nervous and paranoid very easily. That's probably why I'm always doing goofy things like shaking my arms to try to literally shake off some of my nerves. Some people say I shake and twist my arms so quickly that I look like a flailing octopus. Another problem that I still have is that I blush very easily. But people take that to be a sign that I am embarrassed a lot, when in reality it is just my face reacting to my nervous thoughts. It's a habit I wish I could stop, but I don't think I will ever fully grow out of my anxious behaviors. I will probably be an old man still blushing and shaking his arms around as he walks his daughter down the isle on her wedding day. I don't take pills for my anxiety, though, because my mom thinks it is unnecessary. I kind of agree, because I know that those pills would be very easy to get addicted to, and I have other things in my life that can temporarily ease my mind. For example, writing. Anytime I pick up a pen to write a book, I feel at ease with myself and am happy to take myself to distant worlds. See, in my writing I can be anybody I want, and I can surround myself with some of the greatest people in the world. Writing is equivalent to dreaming... only you, not your subconscious, are in control. Another facet for me to ease my mind is by being with my friends. We always have a great time together and we tell lots of jokes to take my mind off of other thoughts. I hope that someday I will grow out of my problem, but I know that it probably won't happen for a very long time, so instead I come up with coping methods that help me come to terms with myself, at least.

Acrostic Poem Assignment

Jackson Yakowicz

Jackson prefers "Jack."

Ann Arbor is where he was born, he

Could only crawl when he left,

Kicking and screaming, his father yelled

"Son," and he stopped.

Open roads headed to Minnesota in

November of 1993.

Years later he grew, and practiced

Athletics. His favorite sport was basketball,

Knowing his abilities weren't

Overly impressive, he didn't dream of playing

When he was older. He had other

Inspirations in life such as getting rich, and moving to

California, where there was everything from a

Zoo to Hollywood.

Daily Journal-- 3/1/11

No form of legislation will ever change the world. The only way to make the world a better place is to change things from a social and moral standpoint. For example, even when African Americans were allowed the right to vote there was still a lot of hatred directed towards them, to make them continue feeling inferior. So when somebody asks for gay rights or abortion rights through legislation, they will never really be treated equally until a change occurs from a social standpoint. Not until society sees gays/lesbians/transvestites as equal, and not until society sees abortion as morally acceptable, will one truly feel at ease. So, how do we bring world peace?

I once heard that the best way to change the world is through "one little act of kindness at a time." I whole-heartedly believe in that statement. I think that doing good is contagious, and when somebody helps us we have the natural feeling to help somebody else as a form of repaying out debt. So why not start a train, today? Why do we confine ourselves to such a small comfort zone? Nearly everyone I know genuinely likes helping others, we just get caught up in our own material lives. So here is what I would advise to anybody interested in making a difference: leave your house. Leave your family, leave your friends, leave everything you know, and take a risk. Now obviously this won't be a permanent move, but why not travel down to an area of the globe marked by destruction for a couple of weeks? Those couple of weeks of your service could make such a drastic change in the lifes of others. Then in return, those others will go out and help additional people. It truly could be the start of something great.