**Author's Note: It's been sometime since I wrote these letters. They were written, addressed and stamped, but never sent in the mail, may haps, if they happen to belong to you, you'll recognize some of the content. They are interesting letters, well, decide for yourself.
It's funny how some people spend their whole lives trying to learn how to live. they read the works of the great philosophers, looking for the answers to questions that have not as of yet been asked of them. Something tells me that as these people ley, dying, bones cracking and turning to dust, flesh (no longer full of life) draping the tiny fragments of the reminents of bone, the answer is given too late. Memories are all that remain, but the quality of the memories must be judged, not the mass amount of trivial words read or even the scope of philosophies studied, but the quality of a person's memories. So, as for my philosophy, I no longer need to read the works of some dead guy to tell me how to live (I mean, he's dead (his must have been incorrect, he's dead) to tell me how to live. One could incorporate all of their words into three, "Make a Memory." Thanks.
-one love.
You could spend your whole life running from the demons you created for yourself. If that's the path you choose, you're leaving yourself open to a very lonely, unsatisfying life. I'm not dead, yet, and I have to stop running. My way is a sunny day in the grass with the people I love, not where the demons chase me, but love. Love. Thanks.
-one love.
