No one is without troubles, without personal hardships and genuine challenges. Â That fact may not be obvious because most people don't advertise their woes and heartaches. Â But nobody, not even the purest heart, escapes life without suffering battle scars.
Don't ever give up. Don't ever give in. Don't ever stop trying. Don't ever sell out. And if you find yourself succumbing to one of the above for a brief moment, pick yourself up, brush yourself off, whisper a prayer, and start where you left off. But never, ever, ever give up.
Never give up. It's like breathing—once you quit, your flame dies letting total darkness extinguish every last gasp of hope. You can't do that. You must continue taking in even the shallowest of breaths, continue putting forth even the smallest of efforts to sustain your dreams. Don't ever, ever, ever give up.
You may be the only person left who believes in you, but it's enough. It takes just one star to pierce a universe of darkness. Never give up.
You can capture this body of mine, take away my freedom and enslave me. You may even have the power to capture my soul and sentence me to the realm of eternal darkness. But my dreams you cannot touch. They are my will―the very essence of who I am. In them I laugh. In them I cry. In them I love. And in them.....I live. My dreams are untouchable and unceasing.
I don't so much mind looking back on having lost the election, or having been denied a role in the play, or having had my novel repeatedly rejected, or having been turned down for a date, or recalling laughter at my expense when I attempted some silly challenge.  Those things simply prove that I lived life.  What I do mind, however, is looking back on the lost opportunities where imagined concerns kept me from even trying—lose or win.  I've learned that there is no regret in a brave attempt, only in cowering to fear.
I love words. Â I crave descriptions that overwhelm my imagination with vivid detail. Â I dwell on phrases that make my heart thrum. Â I cherish expressions that pierce my emotions and force the tears to spill over. Â In essence, I long for a writer's soul sealed in ink on the page.
Teach me to sing and recite, To whistle and jingle and strum. Teach me to color and paint, To sculpt and weave and create. Teach me to sway and dance, To tap and leap and twirl. Teach me to laugh and giggle, To tickle and play and pretend. Teach me that life is beautiful.