Most Important Thing In My Life And Why

"What is the most important thing in your life?" This question is now probably one of the most
over-used, unoriginal prompts known to mankind. It is broad, obscure, and applicable on many levels;
the reply to such a scopic and sweeping query relies almost entirely on the perspective of the person
answering it. As my perspective is the one being asked for (and because this is a free-response prompt,
completely at my less-than-patient mercy), I shall, without further ado, surrender my response.

It is my cynically philosophical and oh-so-witty perception that the question posed to me may
indeed be considered an invalid one; because asking me what the most important thing in my life is
seems to propose several things, a few of which may not be true. For one, it attempts to put ideas in my
mind--- namely, the idea that my life holds some sort of clear meaning or purpose and can therefore
have a set of values (which would mean that, yes, I can pick out what is "most important" in my life).
It communicates that, yes, life has meaning. On that score, I'm afraid I could fill up several pages with
convincing and thought-provoking argument; but I won't, because I am trying to keep this short and
sweet. I would only like to say that, being merely sixteen and all, I don't think I am qualified at this
juncture in my life to determine whether or not we (as human beings) are put on this earth for a reason.
I believe now that I am making no sense, which is not hard for me to believe, considering that (according
to my Psychology teacher) I am probably going to lose about an hour of sleep this week, due the shifting of
my schedule.

Originally, I had no intent of answering the topic question; but I think that, because I have written
only about three hundred words so far, I shall provide some sort of response.

So . . . What is the most important thing in my life?

You know, actually, once I really consider that question, I think that is entirely too personal
to be writing about; on that note, I probably will not reveal which little anecdotes are mine at any time
during class this week for the same reason. And not to be rude, but frankly, it is too early in the year for
me to answer the the aforementioned mediocre question with any amount of politeness or joviality. I realize
that I must sound like a long-winded, self-important smart alec kid doing a bad impression of de Sade, and
that I have used too many parantheses and run-on sentences; I am sorry. I also apologize for my lack of
cooperation, but I do believe that I have now (nearly) filled the five-hundred-word quota.