I Was Aware Too How Strange Adults

But Most Critically, Sweet, Never Try To Change The Narrative Structure Of Someone Else's Story, Though You Will Certainly Be Tempted To, As You Watch Those Poor Souls In School, In Life, Heading Unwittingly Down Dangerous Tangents, Fatal Digressions From Which They Will Unlikely Be Able To Emerge. Resist The Temptation. Spend Your Energies On Your Story. Reworking It. Making It Better.

Life Was A Freight Train Barreling Toward Just One Stop, Our Loved Ones Streaking Past Our Windows In Blurs Of Color And Light. There Was No Holding On To Any Of It, And No Slowing It Down.

Those Around You Can Have Their Novellas, Sweet, Their Short Stories Of Cliché And Coincidence, Occasionally Spiced Up With Tricks Of The Quirky, The Achingly Mundane, The Grotesque. A Few Will Even Cook Up Greek Tragedy, Those Born Into Misery, Destined To Die In Misery. But You, My Bride Of Quietness, You Will Craft Nothing Less Than Epic With Your Life. Out Of All Of Them, Your Story Will Be The One To Last.

It's Kind Of Funny...the Moments On Which Life Hinges. I Think Growing Up You Always Imagine Your Life - Your Success - Depends On Your Family And How Much Money They Have, Where You Go To College, What Sort Of Job You Can Pin Down, Starting Salary...but It Doesn't, You Know. You Wouldn't Believe This, But Life Hinges On A Couple Of Seconds You Never See Coming. And What You Decide In Those Few Seconds Determines Everything From Then On... And You Have No Idea What You'll Do Until You're There.

What, Really, Was The Difference Between Something Hounding You And Something Leading You Somewhere?