tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40362967369644059872023-11-16T02:56:56.245-08:00S^criptStephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-54302146445254072922016-09-01T19:28:00.000-07:002016-09-01T20:31:36.946-07:00Please join me in standing against the Dakota Access Pipeline, currently under construction, and potentially contaminating the water supply of the people of The Sioux Nation. Help me take a stand against this injustice. REMEMBER: One VOICE can break the wave, but many can CHANGE the tide!<br />
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Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-10389165191221190492015-05-19T22:27:00.000-07:002015-05-19T22:28:41.056-07:00Perception is Created<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>As we were created, we ourselves create.</i></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>If all conscious thinking beings huddled within a gallery and observed an abstract painting entitled Life, what would they see?</i><br />
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<br />Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-39264499120118957062015-03-02T22:24:00.001-08:002015-03-02T22:30:36.376-08:00StayLearning<div class="MsoNormal">
A student asked me today, “You know what I wish for?” I
replied no. “I wish that if god made us, that he can give all kids brains that know
everything.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Why?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Because, then we wouldn’t have to go to school, or read, or
do anything.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hmm…” I thought, “But isn’t that what makes life fun? If we
knew everything, we wouldn’t have any reason to do anything. Isn’t it fun not
knowing everything – being able to learn something new every single day? It’s
like a little adventure.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another student says, “I just want gym.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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Got to love kids! <o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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Stay forever learning.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
~ Steph R.</div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-62807129532627411502015-02-28T23:56:00.001-08:002015-03-01T00:19:26.784-08:00Living in Exhaustion<div class="MsoNormal">
Lately my mind’s been lost wandering through the spectrum of
time – living in glimpses of the “way back then,” of “the now” and “the where
to?” In so much thought, with my mind attached to situations across time, of
scenes and moments long ago and long from here, I realize that living shouldn’t
feel so exhausting – breathing, beating bodies shouldn’t feel so dreadful, so
muddied by daily societal weight. It would seem that exhaustion would lie more in lack of progression, in stagnation. To be alive should feel the farthest from death. I question sometimes whether our living is truly living? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Peace, Be, Love</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
~ Steph R.<o:p></o:p></div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-5920652147858143622015-02-19T14:04:00.000-08:002015-02-19T14:06:47.654-08:00The Man Dubbed "H"<div class="MsoNormal">
Evening
ride uptown and I find myself clogged between cold bodies like cattle. In the
silence of the cart, the squeaks from the jerking train make me find the humor
in it all.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Earlier
that day, around late afternoon, I waited on a platform, hands tucked into
pockets, ready to head up to Manhattan. That’s where I’d meet a young man that
I’ll dub H for reasons of privacy. H was that type of guy to give someone that “Oh,
please… please… don’t talk to me” face. He was that guy out roaming the platform
with his laptop blasting Hip-Hop music, taking hits from his vaporizer and starting
chit-chat with whoever crossed his line of sight. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
People maneuvered
themselves around him like an aisle spill, and I found myself surprisingly uplifted
by his liveliness. It wasn’t long before I too was drawn into conversation with
him. Aboard the train, as we both rode toward city lights, he opened himself to
me without embarrassment, without any self-consciousness. He opened up about his
history – how at 20 years of age he got nabbed for selling dope, and how seven
years later he found himself looking for change. In that moment I found envy
within myself, envy at the appreciation he had for breathing out in the February
winter air. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
He went
on sharing with me his passion for art – how he’d sold portraits and drawings
to fellow inmates, and how now, after coming out, he had sold enough of his
work to afford the basic laptop he carried around like a small gem. He went on
about his addiction to cigarettes and how he changed to smoking from a vaporizer
– a habit that he explained to me with the tongue of a scientist – explaining the
ingredients that made it a healthier habit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Within
the movement of his words my eyes couldn’t help but wander at the gazing eyes
around our conversation, eyes I knew carried the weight of instant judgment
about the character developing before me, a character who without fear pulled
me into not only his past, but into his desires and aspirations – into the
visions of his future.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
In that
hour, his care-free behavior and gratitude for the simplest of freedoms broke
through the imaginary cage so often set by society. At one moment, a lady had
given him a stare, and he asked if his music had been disturbing her. After she
replied “no”, he turned to me and asked what I preferred to listen to – and then
he told me something that would stick in the back of my mind through the rest
of the night. He said to me that when he came across something moving, he
enjoyed sharing it with others. It was then that he recommended me a book to
read.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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“Go
ahead, open it up to any page, it’s that good,” he said. “I’m telling you man,
you got to read this book, it’ll change your life.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Before
our departures, I recommended a book onto him, one that had been previously
recommended onto me. And within that small discussion there was a bond felt, an
awkward feeling, a link not just between strangers, but of person.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
On that
late evening ride toward 125 Street, where people squeezed like packaged meat
inside the steel walls of public transit – I gazed at the space around me, the
faces of stern thoughts, the eyes of people swimming deep inside a personal
world guarded through intentional silence. Through the passing stops I
attempted in my mind to free myself of this imaginary encasing, to set a spark
in dark silence – and I thought of the young man I had met prior, and wished
his character could have walked inside this moment. For within the crammed cart
of the subway, I awoke to the reality of separation which has grown between
people, how society did not feel much of a society, and how public transportation
did not feel so public. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
~ Steph R.</div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-2478888200946653322015-02-11T21:01:00.003-08:002015-02-12T10:16:18.419-08:00Harmony<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> It’s on
very rare occasions that we find ourselves genuinely harmonized to the heart of
nature – to all breaths seen and unseen. And days can pass like the snap of morning shadow. But today, within the snipping frost of my car, palm beating
against the Mickey Mouse cover of my wheel, nodding to the classic tune “Sugar Pie Honey Bunch,” I discovered in me, for a wink in time, not only an
appreciation for life, but a pure and absolute wonder for my existence. In that
moment I no longer had either past nor future, there was only exact present and
living. We often say to appreciate every moment, to cherish every day, to live
day to day – but this moment was absent of all thought, pure as a newborn
seed. Sight was touch, and sound was sight. My senses balled into one, so that
for in the smallest of a second, I was able to touch life – like a child
poking the freshness of water, my body swelled with wonder. Traveling through
our days entangled by the ropes of stress, we need to remember the value in removing ourselves from our “selves.” </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i> I’ll tell ya, life is forever alluring. </i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>~ </i>Steph R.</div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-4140158037609354832015-02-09T21:32:00.000-08:002015-02-09T21:33:15.283-08:00Word Voice<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Sometimes, when we lose ourselves, the only way to find our way is through the voice within our words. </i><i> </i> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i> I think that's where I'm at. </i></blockquote>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
~ Steph R.</div>
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Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-11535912996575582862014-10-23T21:08:00.000-07:002014-10-23T21:08:41.471-07:00Thought: Memories<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ7x0Mfj0l_W__0HD1_Pras_rQIiBi3rKi3QzmsA6eXFyBtvMTWAz7JpyJ1O0bGd4G1-JA3_FFOY7oIR-CO7w6qHqJgkU9bJnHRzhJ9PqB0CkPZOA5Hgz8ExB4XLPjIRLxVY__qBSg_WU/s1600/multiverse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ7x0Mfj0l_W__0HD1_Pras_rQIiBi3rKi3QzmsA6eXFyBtvMTWAz7JpyJ1O0bGd4G1-JA3_FFOY7oIR-CO7w6qHqJgkU9bJnHRzhJ9PqB0CkPZOA5Hgz8ExB4XLPjIRLxVY__qBSg_WU/s1600/multiverse.jpg" height="224" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>There is no journey quite magical as the one into the past</i></div>
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<i>~ </i>Stephen R. Acevedo</div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-71911421764102176752013-08-03T09:52:00.003-07:002013-08-03T09:57:45.160-07:00Thought: Appreciation<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1nA1jfwal1AGYzK-kTCwKKnrWjban8J9skCbXJx6QB1NBy1XU9Re7x-OqSlNx0oeAAon_Jl9_oaGtH3YsKWHumxuPdNHKcuEW7Z7en6rfiTKjyWqUI11PMG6IleLt6GLjuHR-4y0SDCs/s1600/breath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1nA1jfwal1AGYzK-kTCwKKnrWjban8J9skCbXJx6QB1NBy1XU9Re7x-OqSlNx0oeAAon_Jl9_oaGtH3YsKWHumxuPdNHKcuEW7Z7en6rfiTKjyWqUI11PMG6IleLt6GLjuHR-4y0SDCs/s320/breath.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>After the bombs have landed is when you learn to cherish the beauty behind a simple breath</em> </div>
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<em>~ Stephen R. Acevedo</em><br />
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Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-66806497346502781882013-07-12T20:01:00.001-07:002013-07-12T20:01:44.861-07:00Thought: Decisions<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF0FK-CHY89dQ8pPtu0HwCthrPGZfTgdP6xO8wgAY1lpaH59CoM274R2r8RKNlQn5w48MYi7hBHhNTeYIahJYPOmAkLOcdNBzvUAvyvW_jYLSsPZSPGdQHrxG3968Ug4gZS0Bu-qG6VxQ/s1600/decisions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF0FK-CHY89dQ8pPtu0HwCthrPGZfTgdP6xO8wgAY1lpaH59CoM274R2r8RKNlQn5w48MYi7hBHhNTeYIahJYPOmAkLOcdNBzvUAvyvW_jYLSsPZSPGdQHrxG3968Ug4gZS0Bu-qG6VxQ/s320/decisions.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I learned today that the best decision isn't always the right one.</i> </div>
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~ Stephen R. Acevedo</div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-34699719480023463912013-06-09T17:30:00.004-07:002013-06-09T17:31:05.541-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLqgP_cls4_dKhJ_KltMcoVYIAhATVtdg5YEb1M2V1RWj9ui3u7RnPDwE-piR9xgjOIp5S27lYwy3T7eMFUvUBsDpTmJunuDXK84Kl_hX95bpCEdSO1TOUo8KP6c9OHHJ-NiLcth0jcQ/s1600/loneliness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLqgP_cls4_dKhJ_KltMcoVYIAhATVtdg5YEb1M2V1RWj9ui3u7RnPDwE-piR9xgjOIp5S27lYwy3T7eMFUvUBsDpTmJunuDXK84Kl_hX95bpCEdSO1TOUo8KP6c9OHHJ-NiLcth0jcQ/s320/loneliness.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>You come into the world alone and you leave it alone. So don't live it in loneliness. </i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>~ Stephen R. Acevedo</i><br />
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Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-20076147138563850442013-05-05T16:46:00.000-07:002013-05-05T16:46:28.318-07:00Thought: Selflessness-Selfishness<div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-style: italic; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyVfH5T_us0oSEOkIuFucNr3cDAb7ySWRqmWpagRsAB_GKVyMnJ-FNp7Zsy_HY3IJ-qsWAUaxPBoAmryapcklLTYkxc93qlgpgSPy30UNVEJk-VdkwF_6uNg2UOrBt9piCvqoufqFW3Us/s1600/Selfless+Selfish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyVfH5T_us0oSEOkIuFucNr3cDAb7ySWRqmWpagRsAB_GKVyMnJ-FNp7Zsy_HY3IJ-qsWAUaxPBoAmryapcklLTYkxc93qlgpgSPy30UNVEJk-VdkwF_6uNg2UOrBt9piCvqoufqFW3Us/s320/Selfless+Selfish.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;">
<i>I'm torn between the grip of selflessness and selfishness</i></div>
<div style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
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~ Stephen R. Acevedo</div>
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Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-57261370462599046862013-05-04T02:09:00.003-07:002013-05-04T11:33:37.236-07:00Thought: Impressions<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjCxzC2UQn9wZE361Rv4e6wBycdO6DmfkGzfvBb1Wmw-0K6xJvPyChCPVM3PWKPjdDvjkwuffpQ7i6po18b8kR1oGIFklmvXHBSwd9PU8W4-9lcSQKYBlP1GeVEeuWTBiDaZ-oxSlbE60/s1600/Impression.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjCxzC2UQn9wZE361Rv4e6wBycdO6DmfkGzfvBb1Wmw-0K6xJvPyChCPVM3PWKPjdDvjkwuffpQ7i6po18b8kR1oGIFklmvXHBSwd9PU8W4-9lcSQKYBlP1GeVEeuWTBiDaZ-oxSlbE60/s320/Impression.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>The best impressions left are the ones that were never meant to be left</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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~ Stephen R. Acevedo</div>
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Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-47368873531345251872013-04-22T20:41:00.003-07:002013-04-22T20:47:02.774-07:00Thought: Music Industry<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHneOdHshHl0_NUgykID7FPJSrGfqcgKWxJANhwHakOqIBpyO4eNY0DiYnCZxbfj1DK_ZcofwghMW5VuNKD347oDeQLhr4-k3Ikcvri7D8TVxxNxA0LeiWd_9oYunVDVRumJ42IECSrBU/s1600/Music+Industry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHneOdHshHl0_NUgykID7FPJSrGfqcgKWxJANhwHakOqIBpyO4eNY0DiYnCZxbfj1DK_ZcofwghMW5VuNKD347oDeQLhr4-k3Ikcvri7D8TVxxNxA0LeiWd_9oYunVDVRumJ42IECSrBU/s1600/Music+Industry.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
"There was a time when music was real." ~ <i>Many will say</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"There was also a time when buying your artist's favorite album meant something" ~ <i>Honesty will speak</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Industry mongols only provide audiences with what they support in sales. You want to hear "real music" again? Support the artists expressing it. There used to be value behind buying a cassette, vinyl, or CD. </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>So next time you decide to critique the music industry, take a look at the last time you put money into the pocket of your favorite artist. </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>~ Stephen R. Acevedo</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-38099674511796933222013-04-21T19:56:00.003-07:002013-04-21T19:57:32.954-07:00Thought: Hero<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggIbO-kt-HC7IiJThDKlekx9QDeiRN94nmI1cuiuBjOnJcUIprOjQVQgz7m7zBJmdfq9QZyaiueONmDY5QHy2G475S1Uhk9OqDObXHJoxezchMg0wqhvQX4nnA-5EZxXYPrfdW8-gpi8/s1600/Superhero.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggIbO-kt-HC7IiJThDKlekx9QDeiRN94nmI1cuiuBjOnJcUIprOjQVQgz7m7zBJmdfq9QZyaiueONmDY5QHy2G475S1Uhk9OqDObXHJoxezchMg0wqhvQX4nnA-5EZxXYPrfdW8-gpi8/s400/Superhero.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>The reason superheros are so popular and attractive to society is because they have no Self. They make their entire existence a symbol for others. They become an idea, a positive beacon. What we all secretly wish to be. Thing is, we all have it in us to become the very heroes we look up to. </i></div>
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<i>~ Stephen R. Acevedo</i></div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-61864977968270731672013-04-17T19:49:00.003-07:002013-04-17T19:55:19.044-07:00Thought: Spread the Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigF-X3KmLKibtL3btABS23GUuKjLWwYN01f_hrS1SajCLdKl3pRCNSxMxyFuz2Oc9i5cJlz0mdo04HL3l2-UQCZwi7szTgZkDsQ3fQqMj4uWgHcftd9QXcMwdTEUQt_cSe1oPa7UueO3M/s1600/Spreading+Love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigF-X3KmLKibtL3btABS23GUuKjLWwYN01f_hrS1SajCLdKl3pRCNSxMxyFuz2Oc9i5cJlz0mdo04HL3l2-UQCZwi7szTgZkDsQ3fQqMj4uWgHcftd9QXcMwdTEUQt_cSe1oPa7UueO3M/s320/Spreading+Love.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Once you find happiness within yourself, spreading it onto the others becomes a lot easier.</i><br />
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~ Stephen R. Acevedo</div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-63439793276268888082013-04-16T05:49:00.000-07:002013-04-16T05:49:57.451-07:00<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaz2GFksgkeJNbYg32HmUKdxZ_KRNCjSOFBrJ3QAnBJ562krGFhlzA4_fuP16WuoEvz4Bcm7CoG59DQNdLjkv7O3QpqAk77oZTSHJ90oQd2-sRI6pvdZtbils1r919j_WT2KW8ERcsy8A/s1600/Hope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaz2GFksgkeJNbYg32HmUKdxZ_KRNCjSOFBrJ3QAnBJ562krGFhlzA4_fuP16WuoEvz4Bcm7CoG59DQNdLjkv7O3QpqAk77oZTSHJ90oQd2-sRI6pvdZtbils1r919j_WT2KW8ERcsy8A/s320/Hope.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>That moment when you have the urge to help someone from themselves, have them realize, 'this is why you tick the way you do.' This is when you have to trust that life will straighten it all out. This is "hope". </i></div>
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~ Stephen R. Acevedo</div>
<i><br /></i>Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-21758207679309066142013-04-14T22:35:00.000-07:002013-04-14T22:35:25.142-07:00Thought: Past, Present, Future<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRd_gET3FVzmLWG5ECEEfZDNAznEUp7Uq3Sm6iz0_72GaSq_2enxbUS5z0BJ7dY2vvyvZJdfJFSOFssXlwOnwK1hKpZjUvzAD5aTLeFdQRShszoX8gDw1oqkfDOzhlGDuYBU3Bi5VV3A/s1600/past+present+future.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRd_gET3FVzmLWG5ECEEfZDNAznEUp7Uq3Sm6iz0_72GaSq_2enxbUS5z0BJ7dY2vvyvZJdfJFSOFssXlwOnwK1hKpZjUvzAD5aTLeFdQRShszoX8gDw1oqkfDOzhlGDuYBU3Bi5VV3A/s400/past+present+future.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Accept the Past, realize the Present, and look towards the Future</i></div>
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Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-6910955280195329232013-04-14T22:21:00.000-07:002013-04-14T22:21:13.759-07:00Thought: BitterSweet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ISIxvvvHES1yvvBNbXJCOL3qyMg5jLvJcnLlG18l4-TzXXTgQf1dWnOHppVDecEWB2nPRTy1UlzAwVZ_YcOvUQRwCdfc8LlNyrRbhTOLWQvLKQwuegJY2xF8h8-joI3UY9Pr98mv7p8/s1600/happy-sad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ISIxvvvHES1yvvBNbXJCOL3qyMg5jLvJcnLlG18l4-TzXXTgQf1dWnOHppVDecEWB2nPRTy1UlzAwVZ_YcOvUQRwCdfc8LlNyrRbhTOLWQvLKQwuegJY2xF8h8-joI3UY9Pr98mv7p8/s320/happy-sad.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>Most Bittersweet feeling...</i></div>
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<i>Knowing you cannot make someone happy,</i></div>
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<i>but someone else can. </i></div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-71033923749220577852013-03-02T12:21:00.001-08:002013-03-02T12:21:39.531-08:00Thought: Love & Happiness <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-GQ8umJ5n67A8kMgk7rsMBbcL4Eou4liL1qhSGpy8VOUXv7OGkMUqpW9jLkiMC6upVwmhC6NotgBL85WJOir6K8pXa3COTG4EJVRepb6KjlJZjcC3KSqWnWYZPTey3g4CsMIm_bjoTkQ/s1600/Love+and+Happiness+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-GQ8umJ5n67A8kMgk7rsMBbcL4Eou4liL1qhSGpy8VOUXv7OGkMUqpW9jLkiMC6upVwmhC6NotgBL85WJOir6K8pXa3COTG4EJVRepb6KjlJZjcC3KSqWnWYZPTey3g4CsMIm_bjoTkQ/s320/Love+and+Happiness+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>When I love you, I want to make you happy, not have to make you happy</i></div>
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~ Stephen R. Acevedo</div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-55406210256435438982013-02-27T21:03:00.000-08:002013-02-27T21:06:31.524-08:00Thought: Love and Happniess<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihkSUKs86RmhcMTmbSYBs5XWnDNgFaMHzjY6D7cPIrkAqOYKfXdUJcRzzlt35ZRQDNx3gtjgtL0526wKH8Ba_gE2wHYuFJsDj1EQKC9AD9Q9ljuN6EGpa-yuNZQ4xBI4Fa0uAzDiia7ME/s1600/Love+and+Happiness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihkSUKs86RmhcMTmbSYBs5XWnDNgFaMHzjY6D7cPIrkAqOYKfXdUJcRzzlt35ZRQDNx3gtjgtL0526wKH8Ba_gE2wHYuFJsDj1EQKC9AD9Q9ljuN6EGpa-yuNZQ4xBI4Fa0uAzDiia7ME/s320/Love+and+Happiness.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>It's better to be part of someone's happiness, rather than be all their happiness</i></div>
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~ Stephen R. Acevedo</div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-59811765659452070022013-02-18T21:41:00.001-08:002013-02-18T21:41:57.961-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgFufhx2S7_TpRVnTDmYfSfn7zmCGhf49Ggb2ut1G2h-zhiUCIKcYJWzExQcwzZ1C_7ne2b3mvssK7taHOV_li_At8AAtGaXWERDZd5GC6cDMe-eyJ__vHA4WingTl8pQHv2IUefzL_nE/s1600/Complex+World.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgFufhx2S7_TpRVnTDmYfSfn7zmCGhf49Ggb2ut1G2h-zhiUCIKcYJWzExQcwzZ1C_7ne2b3mvssK7taHOV_li_At8AAtGaXWERDZd5GC6cDMe-eyJ__vHA4WingTl8pQHv2IUefzL_nE/s320/Complex+World.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Life's complexity stems from its simplicity. The way of nature is straightforward, and it's our avoidance of this nature that creates layers atop simple ways. </i></div>
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<i>~ </i>Stephen R. Acevedo</div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-69958341261242632002013-02-12T17:11:00.001-08:002013-02-12T17:11:33.749-08:00Thought: Wisdom<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnyzuk3UAEQLBC9DuhN9ZWDd9bKKWVCAQjM1C7OwYgOIeLrZSXuy9aM9_6TY_EawE6H5cJfO_XNEi2-Amf9r0buSwbQdurLF48rVEJGH0iAUpWkXMaUto5dhfoJBySlRcYIXXbau0G_aI/s1600/Wise+Man.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnyzuk3UAEQLBC9DuhN9ZWDd9bKKWVCAQjM1C7OwYgOIeLrZSXuy9aM9_6TY_EawE6H5cJfO_XNEi2-Amf9r0buSwbQdurLF48rVEJGH0iAUpWkXMaUto5dhfoJBySlRcYIXXbau0G_aI/s320/Wise+Man.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>I've come to notice that most do not care much for the wise man, but rather more for the wisdom he so kindly offers</i></div>
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~ Stephen R. Acevedo</div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-71346206001064017932013-01-31T19:39:00.003-08:002013-01-31T19:41:49.747-08:00Thought: Control<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxnxpMnW3xDaD_f4O_aAOlx8rc5DQpHrShTeVe_cjYPTdBAg50K5fsJj-GMXNbun44IRxtTwzTPcsSI_HU3VCJYTx7mhiH7MRUg4_JuEsHluZ7Cgwq8rINdWOcwRYDQCwYSE-bLz_LRMs/s1600/Within+yourself+reflection.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxnxpMnW3xDaD_f4O_aAOlx8rc5DQpHrShTeVe_cjYPTdBAg50K5fsJj-GMXNbun44IRxtTwzTPcsSI_HU3VCJYTx7mhiH7MRUg4_JuEsHluZ7Cgwq8rINdWOcwRYDQCwYSE-bLz_LRMs/s1600/Within+yourself+reflection.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>You can't control people, you can only control yourself. People are going to do what they will. Simply worry about being good within yourself.</i></div>
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~ Stephen R. Acevedo</div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036296736964405987.post-80138571304354489272013-01-26T16:01:00.001-08:002013-01-26T16:02:41.373-08:00Thought: Confronting the Past<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOXuN_uTZNVwiq50qLXSecGDA7hsUNjX8LK2NaczHrLw-YsrawAeTgATPpjix1egztvJQSJ19R2IGCmiVhGzyJzIhFSz68bokJdrMlXxG9ApM_gjhVSEOVjSZCjULiYOVjN2tfrsHW51M/s1600/compassion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOXuN_uTZNVwiq50qLXSecGDA7hsUNjX8LK2NaczHrLw-YsrawAeTgATPpjix1egztvJQSJ19R2IGCmiVhGzyJzIhFSz68bokJdrMlXxG9ApM_gjhVSEOVjSZCjULiYOVjN2tfrsHW51M/s320/compassion.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i>
<i>The only way to truly come to terms with your past is to confront it with compassion. Anger will only keep it at a distance. </i></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
~ Stephen R. Acevedo</div>
Stephen R. Acevedohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08111478669643663438noreply@blogger.com0