Introductory

Introductory: 'Dust that Sits' 

'I'm writing this blog to show the world maybe their wrong"

I've always wondered as a small child, I'm talking five or six, what the light held when I would stare into it. Walking down isles at the grocery store I would watch the ground as the ceiling lights would reflect off of the floor tiles, and I believed ballet dancers spend there time there. Childhood dreams such as these are what has kept me alive to this day, without them I'm just a being breathing in oxygen and out carbon dioxide. Young minds hold the least knowledge, and I do think it's ironic how they produce the dreams of only the most optimistic man in the universe. Childhood memories fade quickly as you age because your beginning to get a fare share of reality, and your dreams slowly start to turn into dust. Dust that sits, and sits, and sits, along the surface until the weight becomes too much and it blows into the wind becoming something one can never collect all the pieces of; Something you'll never get back. 

In this blog I'll try to capture my best impression of what I think meaning to life holds, or is this just another way to pass the time? Life is a strange thing composed of odd little hints of differences and similarities that in the end truly, we are all just the same. Bones may hold more truth than feeling, but I'd much rather feel than waste thinking time on whats going to become of me.