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"Our souls do not spell out their troubles more clearly than our bodies." - Socrates. We are a lot more transparent and porous than we think, which for a philosophizing essayist - where I constantly find myself stuck and unstuck - is perpetually rich and fertile soil. There is much to observe in this life that is both disheartening, and encouraging in myself and my fellow man, especially some of the machinery we put our faith in, we think produces clean coverings, in the hope that they might absolve us and in the end offer us some final redemption. In my eagerness to document this pursuit in getting to know you better, I invariably scurry through mournful valleys toward rejoicing pastures, journeying with that beautiful Deliverer by my side. They're just essays. They won't hurt. Much.