Lacking eloquent words

stories fashioned who we are
thus far, we are becoming
what we have heard will come

remaining unknown

to some

a story is given.
a really good story.
sometimes told by really good storytellers,
and sometimes by the not-so-good.
yet,
it is only folly to the perishing.

it is wisdom
and power to the powerless.

Why this?

Greetings. blogging isn't something i usually do, but for the sake of some family and a few friends -it is ultimately an assumption that anything i do, especially this, could truly be for their sake- i have decided to enter daily thoughts and lessons, as begotten or learned, at the close of (some) days. keep in mind, i tend to forget about people when i am consumed with present adventure, and returning home daily to the hassle of uncertain internet connections isn't something i desire to make a priority. besides, my life as of today (and i presume for many following days) is like the image of a sailboat: under direction of a captain of course, but none the less remaining at the mercy of the winds. i do not intend to imply that i am "blown and tossed by the waves" and all sort of decietful and foolish teachings, nor apathetically drifting like wood through life. i set courses, i follow plans, i will even try to remember "blogs." but ultimately i am sailing. i am directed by a wind, more so like the breath of a young boy moving a toy boat along his desired course. though unseen, i trust it is a good wind. and though unknown, i trust it is also a good course.

Each day there is a sunset in rockville, and other places, from which i might write. i hope all is pleasant then.

Peace be.