13 October 2012

I know that I have said this before, but every person's life is a story, and every life could fit between the covers of a book. There is always a beginning and an end; there is also everything in between: the thoughts, the feelings, the decisions, the regrets, the people, the places...

But we are not only part of our own story, we are surrounded by so many other stories, many of which cut across our own story, pulling it in different directions, adding to it, changing it. Eventually, all the stories become tangled together, and  the book spreads out over countless volumes until it becomes difficult to discern just one beginning, one middle and one end.