I sat in the grass beneath the sun and dark clouds. The breeze provoked my thoughts as it had so many other times. I really want to understand. I want to know what they meant. What purpose has life? What does it mean that you're living? I guess science would say that your lungs are filled with oxygen and that your heart is pumping blood. But is that really living? And what does it mean to have a life? Is it determined by your friends or what you do with them? Is it in the drugs you take or don't take? Is it in the love you have or are lacking? Is it in the amount of sex or lack thereof that you have? Is it determined by rebellion? Is it in the style or amount of music you listen to? Is it the numbers of days that you did or didn't attend a church? Is it based by how good or bad your grades are? How about the trials? Do you have a 'life' if you've been through a lot? Or is it simply where you live and how much money you possess? What does it mean to live? Or have a life? The wind still whispers the question…My soul is still left unfilled. My skirt continues to move as I walk away from the questions and just leave them back in the dust…