You know...

You seem to know many of the answers to life's questions the very second
you start to live your own life.

Things to live by that are sure to make you happy!

It's a dog eat dog world. Be safe. Be a fish.

The great thing about a bad day is that it's only 24 hours long.

Scuff up your knees having a crawling race with the little ones.

Act like each person you meet will only meet you once.

Treat each person like it's their last day.

Dandelions are flowers.

Build a bear. Or a dog.

Meet new people doing something crazy.

Smile.

Text people sitting next to you. Across from you.
And in the next car on the interstate.

Make lists of future plans, reasons you are who you are,
and ideas that will make you millions of pennies one day.

Attach a dog to a leash, and the leash to your ankle. Run.

Call 911 when you see a crash.

Play Where's Waldo?

Mix up people's names.

Be honest.

Laugh until someone snorts. Then laugh harder.

Listen to new music.

Wish at 11:11. But take a picture of 9:12.

Out run a creeper.

Switch phones.

Take photo's.

Live.

One World, One Love.

...What's your aim?

Psst!

     ...miss you.

8 seconds

In the 8 seconds it took him to cross the room, I saw it all. Whatever pride he may have established, whatever feats he overcame, whatever other hurts he had met, none of it mattered, nor compared to the emotion he experienced now. The heartache of losing something close to him. The heartache of losing a best friend. I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. What do you tell someone who is completely broken? Not to mention I didn't even know his name. But his emotion was so real, it sort of bonded those around him. As if we were supporting him in some strange, and distant group-hug sort of way. Raw emotion is something no one can explain, but everyone understands. It's a language anyone can both speak and interpret. I felt like I should shout out to him. Maybe jump up and give him the biggest hug I have ever given. Write him a letter. That sounds silly, but I just couldn't think of how to match the power he was wearing on his sleeve. So I sat in my plastic waiting room chair watching him make his way over the tiles. Like everyone else, I stared. For 8 seconds, we were all one. We were all very real parts of the circle of life. And then, he left. Leaving each of us to ponder ourselves silently in accord to our personal beliefs and morals. In our plastic waiting-room chairs, we looked at life and death in the same hand.