there are moments where we wish we could alter the past, but we cannot. we can, however, alter the future; and we must. there's value in a work-in-progress, but there's no respect in being remembered as a never-was. hear the seraphs cry, band together and march on! don't dismiss the ocean because the waves are thick. appreciate the waves, with their constantly crashing, breaking against the beach, one after another, towards infinity. with enough time, they will move mountains. can we not do exactly the same? when histories unborn ask of your contribution, what excuses will you make? what could you possibly say? that you mistook the concept of breaking for the finality of broken? that the effort lost meaning because you had nothing to say? you may not feel the blood pumping through your veins now, but you will certainly feel when it stops. don't allow yourself to be a tree, fallen, roots torn asunder from such resistance in the face of winds composed of change. if necessary, be the lightning that starts the spark that turns this stubborn forest to ash. if it won't bend, be sure it breaks! we are not intimidated by the scope of all this rebuilding. cherish such confidence. cry it from the rooftops. if actions speak louder than words, be the most deafening noise anyone has ever heard.
