Of Canned Goods and Old Clothes

Growing up, weaned in religion and charismatic duties to the church, it has always been sort of a norm in our hometown. Sunday masses, offerings, confessions, baptisms and communions; everyone was at the local chapel by 7am on days of obligation.


Going to a similar school with head administrators wearing flowing clothes and hidden hair reinforces this notion and belief. We have to be urged by a deeper force to do good, think good and breathe good for others, for greater glory and lastly for ourselves.

The Unwilling

photo from The Selvedge Yard | theselvedgeyard.wordpress.com

It is somewhat every young boy's dream to grow up and be the strongest man in the neighborhood. Cuffed sleeves showing loaded guns, tatted forearms steeled enough for yard brawls and a gun collection like that of the military armory. Waking up everyday, wishing that someday he'd be able to shoot baddies from behind the enemy lines as a justice-branding hero. Then there are those who fantasize about getting involved in the past world wars: to belong in an elite group of snipers and point men. Trenches, bayonets, potato mashers and machine guns were things of childhood that always seemed so cool and macho.