The brush of your steps.

Greatness is ridden with imperfection, go forth and be imperfect.

Step by step and pair to pair, This inconsistent dance, It's all to avoid despair, But at second glance, we've left it all to chance. Our growth is imminent, But convergent, Should we be rash for fake coal, Or shy to pick until we're whole? I've known enough to see fate, I've known enough to know that what I said, was just fake. I can't know it all, not even a little. This isn't destiny, its elasticity, This blue mammoth holds us captive, And yet we run wild and free, Playing by simple rules and needs. Would you give it all for a chance? A glimpse at immortality. Would you die a proud warrior? One who lived and loved, but was quickly lost. History is quick to swallow, Its excrement is an assortment of randomness, You dare to fight and live for greatness, But only you can define it. History will not choose the greatest, It will not choose the immortals, It will choose as it may please, Always unpredictable, such a tease. I...

My name is Daniel Castro and I've been a part of the Georgia Institute of Technology for 4 years but I will be a yellow jacket for the rest of my life. I studied my undergraduate career in Computer Science under the College of Computing, and am now pursuing my doctorate within the same institution. I am an avid supporter of our Athletics department because I love cheering for the school that has made me grow as a person, and taught me everything that I know today. I go to football games drenched in yellow paint, ready to scream our glorious fight songs to cheer the brave and bold. I love this school. But not everyone does. In a recent discussion I was having with a colleague, we joked about how Georgia Tech students often bond over the fact that they went through similar amounts of pain and suffering. To paraphrase what my friend mentioned, "we talk about Georgia Tech like we had been to Vietnam together." I was very confused and began to talk to my peers about the...

Last week I got the chance to sit down with Robbie Stokes, the founder of a movement which I was very much inspired by, called  I Talk to Strangers . Robbie walked up to me while I was grabbing some lunch, getting some work done. He sat down in front of me and introduced himself, wearing a shirt that simply said, I talk to strangers, and it's changing my life. Admittedly, I was thrown aback, I didn't know how to respond or what to do. I wasn't sure if the person who had just sat in front of me at my table was going to steal from me, ask me for money, or if he needed help. I made an instinctive check for my belongings before I finally listened to what he was saying. It was quite a foreign and yet familiar concept to me. I used to give people the split second of attention before I lived in cities like Barcelona, where that split second is the difference between you getting your wallet stolen or going home unscathed. Robbie was hitting on a much stronger point, however. ...

The leap of faith, A synapse, The signal sprints across, A message is never lost. Etched in gold the signal is sound, The train shouts and runs off. A gentle acceleration, You block out the light, but the waves let you know, Time would continue its flight. Perhaps in desperation you twitch, But your eyelids confirmed what the son of a stonemason coined long ago, You know the train is gone. And yet there you stand beside the tracks, The passengers are but a pixel in the distance, You stand and look across the gap, These tracks were just a hurdle, you realize The leap of faith, A synapse, The signal sprints across, Your life is never lost.