this road has been traveled before...the previous traveler has squished the grass, forcing his way. Others before you have had to make there own way...the fact that your way is easy is only because others made it so.
The rain pattered around me and bounced off of the surface of the water like millions of tiny bugs. This, I felt, was the most raw way of living. If one couldn't be a child and play in water every now and then... well, what reason had I to ever grow up?