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I am not sorry that I am not made of gelatin. I will not apologize for constantly conquering this thing called life. Deaf to your opinion of what my life should be. Because when I am 93 I will have over a million stories to tell; how I climbed, how I fell. I will tell how I laughed and ate, cried through hate, loved and experienced everything that I wanted to. All with passion free from regret. Do not tell me what you want for me. Want what I want for me. Societal norms can not contain me. When your glass house shatters, and you have nothing left but scant glimpses of happiness, I will be full of breath and joy. Do not regress. Learn how to live.