August Fifth.

It’s strange how sometimes you stop amidst your tracks and think, just think, about the life you’re living. Whether you’re sitting on a bench in your local park, reading a book, or talking to your friend on the phone, there’s always a certain instance in which you put down everything and ask yourself simple questions in which you thought you were expert in before. “What exactly does it mean, to live?” you find yourself asking as you ponder the reason for your being. It’s quite complicated, really, this simple concept we call ‘life’. So many uncertainties fill the air as people rush through the streets of New York City or honk through the traffic of L.A; and yet, nobody seems to really think about what they’re doing with their lives. But, here sits a girl, her soon-to-be finished novel in hand, wondering if she was ordained to this life, wondering if she even had a purpose. All her life, she had been told that she could do whatever she wanted; pursue the dreams that lie deep within her. But yet, she looks around, noting the many complications of it all: the many complications in this typical scenario called her life.