Hide-and-seek, grown-up style. Wanting to hide. Needing to be sought. Confused about being found.

Remember, most of us got something for nothing the first time just by showing up here at birth. Now we have to qualify.

Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A Beauty Bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination.

We could learn a lot from crayons; some are sharp, some are pretty, some are dull, while others bright, some have weird names, but they all have learned to live together in the same box.

If we could just figure out how to have more fun at it, maybe more of us would join the ranks of those who seek after justice and mercy.

If you break your neck, if you have nothing to eat, if your house is on fire, then you got a problem. Everything else is inconvenience.

I am a fragment of a mirror whose whole design and shape I do not know. Nevertheless, with what I have - I can reflect light into the dark places of this world - into the black places in the hearts of men - and change somethings in some people. Perhaps others may see and do likewise. This is what I am about. This is the meaning of my life.