I cannot become pretentious and claim to be a great writer or artist, nor that my works and words will ever hold any force to them, meaning, purpose. However, I can still write the words and be the artist i cannot deny. This country we attempt to live in makes disappointment inevitable. I dream that some day a great voice will ring out and eyes will finally open. This is the same dream in which money is made obsolete, for we can sustain on another and this earth, it's in our power. Wise people say that though I cannot act to change lifetimes, countries, all people, I can act to change small things, here, in my small pond. I can throw the tiniest pebble and its ripples will create small waves on the shores of my pond. I am not sure what pebble to throw, I am afraid the pebbles I would like to throw would either have no ripples and suddenly sink to the bottom or explode in a show of light and sound and be torn asunder.  So, i do not throw a pebble, I don't even vote half the time. Far be it from me to have any right to criticize the glass giants in DC, when I will only huff, Puff and sit in my room writing on my blogger. What would this world be if The Hunter had maintained a blog?