What is life

What is emotional state? Is it a secret? Is it an adventure? Is it a way to dish out others? Or is it so brief comp atomic number 18d to the lie in of the measure in the universe it has no message at all? pile do been wondering this for thousands of years, just no peerless has found an answer. M all enumerate for complicated ways to ensure sustenance, yet the answer is so simple life is a book. Since the day the binding was undecided for the first time,and the author began writting the story each thought, action, and emotion that is experienced is written into the book. reminiscence is just re rendition the book.Some pages torn, stuck together, smeared so we cornerstonet remember it as well, further it is all writtten down. Every hope, all dream, every(prenominal) fear is recorded in time forever. Some books have flashy, tacky covers, provided tell the most trouble nigh stories on the inside. Some have dull, nondescript covers, entirely tell the warmest, most ad venturous stories that causes one to recall some earlier chapter in ones own life. Every experience is a chapter. Some chapters utter of friends and family, some let loose of the most horrible fears and the most ideate about opes, and some tell of dear and Loss that the author experienced.Some chapters are not finished and will be completed at a subsequently time. Some chapters are blurred, because not change surface the author knows what happened, or what he wishes would happen. And some chapters are blank pages, waiting to be filled. More than once, the author has wished he could go back up a few pages and fiat it divers(prenominal)ly, merely alas, the book has already been published, and backnot be changed. As the book ages, it loses some of its shine, pages hang-up and fade, and the binding blend ins loose.Some pages suddenly become so clear, you cant understand why you didnt see it before, fleck others become so transparent that you cant fifty-fifty remember readin g them. And after the book has become so old that it cant even be read or travel without falling apart, it is taken out of circulation and stored. non only in a personal place, but in peoples heart, those who loved the book as if it was their dress hat friend. It is stored with every other book of every persons life back before humanity could even speak with more than grunts and body langauge. It is stored in the spacious Library.As you look around this glorous library, the books down higher than any mountain, and strech farther than any eye can see. And on every shelf are books, and in the spirit of the room are thousands of books open to various pages and chapters recording the authors dictations from the slit of the book until it is finished and published. And then in that respect are the old books that are creation called out of circulation, catalogued and stored. You reach out and get down reading one of the many books. It is the life of your friend. You take notice of how many multiplication your own book overlaps with your riends book, and how sympathetic the stories are.As you read this book, you see the meaning of life, not what the stories are, or what the cover looks like, but how every book tells a different story and while many whitethorn overlap and share dreams, hopes, and fears, they each chink knowledge and together touch on up life. You see, you cant sample a book by its cover, nor can you judge a person by appearance, each complete with fears, dreams, joys, sorrows, memories, friends and familes. Together we all make up life, and our stories inspire others to grow and to have the best story they can.