My children. They are the things I love the most. They are the items that make my life worth living.
My job. I am really good at what I do. I take the responsiblity that I have very seriously, and it makes me happy to think that there are days in which I have made a difference to someone.
Books. Big books, little books, old books, new books. Picture books, books missing their spines due to mistreatment, books about dreams, realities, fantasies, and more. The smell of old books, the feel of the parchment like paper that is so fragile it shatters at your fingertips. If I could get lost in a book, shrink down the size of one of these letters and make my way into a book, I would.
Movies. Documentaries, zombies, love stories, based on comic books. All of them, some more than others for whatever reason.
My friends. Athesists, Christians, Republicans, Democrats, male or female. I love them all for who they are. The only thing my friends have in common seems to be strenghth of conviction. I have a ballsy group of friends, and I love them for it.
