I was walking into the house and thinking about nothing in particular or profound when the thought arose that the moment I was in was a moment that was a part of millions of tiny moments that I would partake in between here and death. That here and death are closer than we imagine. That the webs we weave are these tiny moments, each series lasting for an amount of time before they are unraveled. It is difficult to put to words because it was all a feeling of a thought rather than a concrete thought of it�s own accord. As somber as it sounds, it was not a feeling that provoked dread or fear or sadness but one of unbelievable optimism. A realization that life is a blank canvas that can be used in any way that we deem, and how sad is the life that worries or conforms to a standard that does not follow the direction of their heart.