The place where I started can be found among chewed pencil stubs marking the moment between moments marked by pencil scribbles noting the time when boring entered my lexicon. I first said boring the time when I was born, apologetically to my mother as she screamed. I have since apologized to my mother for all the times when I made her cry. Secular folks are not the only ones to cry, begging for a sign that reads, Smile, Sinner. There are signs smiling all across this Land around which we circle seeking our home. Sometimes going around in circles I never find the place where I started.