sitting at dinner the last few nights, i realized how full i was--i couldn't eat another bite. this realization was accompanied by another realization: i don't deserve to feel more than content after a meal. and i'm not sure i deserve that much.

alright ... now let's back up. No, i'm not rich. my family is far from it. but neither are we poor. i live comfortably, but sometimes making ends meet is a struggle. No. i haven't traveled abroad, and if that makes me a lesser person, i'm sorry and perhaps someday i'll remedy that to your liking. But here's what i know, without having traveled abroad..i know people are living on the streets of the World. i hate the thought that i've met children--met children who's family struggles for two meals a day, let alone the decent meals i'm used to. in the meanwhile, i can waltz into the kitchen, open the cupboard, and pull out a snack at any given moment. Somehow ... just somehow, there seems to be something wrong with this.

hmm ... hungry?

why can't i change Lives?