The One Where We Stop a Child Predator

**Public disclaimer: these decisions I made were based solely on allegations I had seen reported on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat, and are written as to express the opinions of myself and my brother, not Royse City or anyone else associated with the premises of it. I feel as though my decisions were what were right, in case anything were to happen. This is just my truth, and my truth only. Things may be different to others. Enjoy.**

      You never think that it will happen to your town. Someone says “child predator” and everyone thinks movies and documentaries, never real life situations involving you or anyone you know. This past week, I felt as if I was living in a Criminal Minds episode. Where’s Spencer Reid when you really need him? 

     Royse City, Texas is an extremely small town where the most criminal thing to ever happen was a murder-suicide a while back. We aren’t very crime driven, but since we are so small, it is easy to know a newcomer when they appear. This past week, a strange vehicle was spotted and instantly talked about in a public group on Facebook after he was found in a kid’s park trying to lure children to his vehicle with stuffed animals he had lined in the inside of his car.

      My brother and I are apart of this Facebook group and instantly took notice of it. We were freaked out that it would, first of all, happen in our town, and second of all happen at all. The man was seen at our local Splash Pad water park, where dozens of kids play at everyday. It’s creepy. It sends shivers down my spine.

(The original posts we saw)


     A few days after this initial post was made, we had some running around to do. My brother, our friend Alexa, and I were caught in some traffic on the road that leads right by the Splash Pad. He had just made a remark about how relaxing the water looked trickling down on all of the kid’s backs. I look up and see the truck sitting there in the back of the parking lot almost instantly.

     “Oh my gosh…” I gasp. “That’s that truck, Andrew. That creep who lures kids with stuffed animals, that’s his truck is it not?”

      Andrew and Alexa proceed to squint to the distant Splash Pad. Neither of them can tell at this point, and traffic has us bumper-to-bumper at about 2 miles an hour. In the midst of their confusion and the slow traffic, I find the time to pull up the Facebook post and compare trucks. By the time I do, we have made it to the entrance, and Andrew and Alexa gasp in unison. Without hesitation, he slams on the breaks and whips in to the parking lot. 

     Sure enough, it is him. The truck. The license plate. He’s there, and in the flesh, just parked at the back of the parking lot. My heart starts racing and I feel sick. Sick in a way you never, ever want to feel.  

     He isn’t alone, however. There is a woman parked next to him, and she is sitting with him in his car.

      “Taylore..” Andrew says to me. And before he can even tell me to get out my phone, my camera app is pulled up.

 (Picture taken by me.)

    The woman doesn’t stay long. They talk for a while before she gets out of his truck, and pops her trunk open. And then he climbs out of his truck. And I go numb with fright. Andrew yells at me to take pictures, to take videos of him, but all I can do is just sit and watch him. 

     He is scary. He walks with a limp. The man opens his tailgate and removes a white trash bag filled with stuffed animals. He wearily walks to the lady’s car and stuffs the bag into her trunk, and goes to walk away, holding on to his back as he does. Before she closes it, he turns and snatches a teddy bear that is sticking out of the top of the bag and holds it like a child missing his mother. He grins. The man grins. 

     The woman drives away and the man climbs back into his truck.

     I want to be sick.

 (Picture taken by me.)

     It is a Tuesday afternoon in June in Texas, AKA it is blazing hot outside. The Splash Pad is swarming with children of all ages and their exhausted parents. That is the first thing I take note of upon my examination of the park itself. I’m too scared to look over at the red truck that sits to my left again.

     The second thing that catches my attention is the children running around on their own in the parking lot. They are in their swimsuits. Some of them old. Some of them as young as diaper ages. They are no adults within at least 20 yards from them. They keep running in between cars and disappearing from my sight, forcing my heart into my stomach every time that they do.  I find the courage to look at the man again and I look just in time to watch as he is lowering his passenger seat down to watch the children run around.

     “He’s watching them. Oh my god, he’s watching them.” Andrew says over and over again with his own choice of swears each time inserted wherever he likes. 

     I’m rocking back and forth with my head between my knees, trying to calm myself down enough to make an executive decision. “I know. I know. Just stop telling me that, okay? What should we do?”

     “I don’t know, take a baseball bat to his car?”

     We all know Andrew is smarter than that. 

     I sit up and breathe. “Like the post said, everyone has called the police hundreds of times. If we call, they will just come and tell us that he isn’t doing anything wrong by just sitting here. But he’s clearly watching them and enjoying his time by doing so.”

     “If he tries to approach one of these kids, you best bet I’m not staying in this car for one second.” Alexa then says.

     We sit in silence for the next few minutes, watching him and watching as the kids run around. I imagine if I were a parent sitting on one of the benches, watching their kid playing, not having a single clue that there was a child perpetrator just yards away from me, enjoying watching and seeing my child in their bathing suit. Thinking of the innocence in their minds absolutely killed me.

     “If I were one of those parents I would want to know. I would want someone to tell me.” I say.  “None of them have any idea that he is just sitting there.”

     “So what should we do?” 

     I unbuckle my seatbelt. “We have to go tell them. We can’t just have them sit there not knowing.” 

     “Okay, but you’re doing all of the talking, Miss I Have a Solution for Everything.” Andrew says, his eye still on the man.

     Within seconds, the three of us are out of the car and walking towards the Splash Pad. I feel his eyes burning on us as we do and I wonder if he knows that we know. We can’t decide who to start talking to, or how to start. I decide to pull up the Facebook post to make my life a lot easier., I approach a friendly looking woman sitting on one of the benches. 

     “Excuse me, ma’am. Do you have children playing here right now?” 

     She looks up at me and smiles. “Yes, I do.”

     I sit down next to her and explain the Facebook post and the suspicions on the man in the red truck sitting in the back of the parking lot as we speak. She gasps and looks for her child. When she finds her, she thanks me dearly and explains that she is actually the wife of the high school principal and that she comes here with her kids a lot. She says thank you about five more times and we walk to the next family.

     The sickening feeling started to go away with more people I reached out to. I talked to at least ten parents that day, each of them so relieved to know about it. Some of them left the park immediately. Here is the scariest part of it all:

     None of them knew.

     I no longer felt responsible for anything there at the park that day. If I had logged onto Facebook that night and seen a child had been abducted, I could never live with myself.

      As we are walking to our car, the man is watching us this time instead of the prancing little kids. I feel all of the hairs on my skin stand up and do a shake. Andrew can’t unlock the car fast enough it seems.  

     The man drives off, and before I know it, Andrew is following him. I’m shouting at him to stop, but he says he wants to make sure he never goes back to that park ever again. He follows him at a distance, but close enough to make sure he doesn’t decide to turn around and go back just because we are gone. The man goes to Denny’s and parks there.

     He hasn’t returned to the Splash Pad since.
     This whole situation could have turned out extremely different in multiple ways. I don’t encourage anyone to ever approach someone you think could be a child predator, or any predator at all for that matter. 

       On the other hand, if you feel in your gut that you need to do something about a situation that could possibly turn out badly, listen to what that feeling says. You feel it for a reason. 

       No offense to Andrew or Alexa, but I definitely would have preferred to work on this case with Spencer Reid instead. 

     Call me Detective Tay, I guess!
Until next time,

(Detective)Tay❤

Stop Blaming Yourself, Kid

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“You have suffered enough. It’s time that you won.”

I’ve recently dawned on such a discovery, after spending a lot of time placing blame on myself for things certainly out of my control. This discovery is that these things have not been my fault. I had no control on any of it. I’m far from perfect, I make mistakes, but I have to stop putting the weight of the world on my shoulders for no reason.

I spend so much of my precious time ragging on myself for these things. I blame myself for the slightest inconvenience. I hate myself for it. I have so much hatred for who and what I am that I can’t even stand to glance at a passing by at a mirror. But then I realize, this was not my fault. Other people and outside forces make me feel as if it is me to blame with their insecurities. However, in moments of revelation (and deep conversations with my family and my group message) I come to know that they are so wrong. So why? Why do I still feel the need to bend over backwards to make things right when they are the ones in the wrong here? Why do I feel elephants standing on my chest? Why do I always want to flip my mirror backwards so I don’t have to take one glance at myself?

This society makes it easy to take fault for things out of our control when we’ve been brought up in a generation where self-deprecation is almost vital as a teenager. When the kindness of our hearts overtakes the height of our egos, we jump at the opportunity to make sure the people we love never have to feel one ounce of negativity, even if that means taking the blame for things we shouldn’t have to.

We have to know what we’re worth. And no, that’s not me saying to not take responsibility for your wrong doings when you have messed up or hurt somebody else. Be real. Own up to your mistakes. But we must know right from wrong. Respect yourself enough to know when you are in the wrong, and to know when someone else is doing you wrong. People in this world are messed up. They can mess you up so easily if you aren’t careful. You are worth so much more than what you give yourself. I am worth more. We all are.

My support system is incredible. I’ve been blessed in life with some amazing humans, with hearts bigger than any I’ve ever seen before. We share in our struggles together, not quite understanding why we let people walk over us the way that we do, and then go and turn around the blame on ourselves. Nobody is kind anymore. Our world is filled with people who only care about themselves, and nothing else. I’m lucky enough to know the handful of people who actually still care about others. There is a downside to caring about people in a society that doesn’t care though, because no one will reciprocate anything back to you.

My motto has always been “Don’t be bitter, just be better.” 

When the world is screwed up, and people are just absolutely horrible to be around and you can’t understand, rise above them and just do better. Be better than them. In the long run, doing and being better will get you further anyways.

The world may be screwed up, but that does not mean that you are. You are not to blame for the things out of your control. So listen to me when I say you have to stop blaming yourself. Stop. Just because there is no one to blame, doesn’t mean you have to blame you. Just because you don’t want someone you love to feel bad, does not mean you have to blame you.

Stop blaming yourself, kid.

 

Until next time,

 

Tay

Maybe

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“Betcha he reads, betcha she sews. Maybe she’s made me a closet of clothes! Maybe they’re strict, as straight as a line. Don’t really care, as long as they’re mine.”

-Annie 

 

I’ve had a strange attachment to the musical Annie since before I could remember. It makes sense. Little orphan, longing to belong in a family of her own. In my own way, I related to Annie on a multitude of levels. I felt abandoned by the majority of my family at a very young age, and still to this day, at 18 years old, I find myself feeling like an orphan even now. Spoiler alert, at the end of the movie, Annie gets her happily-ever-after with Daddy Warbucks, sings an epic song, and everything is great.

No matter how many times I watched the movies or sang the songs, I still woke up the next morning with a broken family.

It wasn’t easy by any means, especially growing up loving everything to do with books and movies. Everyone gets their happily-ever-after. Cinderella gets her Prince. Annie gets her family. I was set up for disappointment from the moment I opened my brain to the world of literature. Happily-ever-after happened to everyone. Perhaps I thought if I kept reading, if I kept watching, mine would eventually catch up with me.

Even at 18 years old, I dream about waking up to a happily married mother and father cooking breakfast together, smiling and laughing almost instinctively. I dream that they love my siblings and stroke their hair behind their ears to smooch the peak of their foreheads. And we all sit. And we all smile. And we all are one. I dream that I have a grandmother who didn’t leave me the second she got the chance, and instead is gentle and likes to tell jokes and smile really big, maybe even sometimes an uncle or an aunt pops up into these dreams.

It’s naive, I know. I’m aware of the childish aspects of this dream of mine. But it’s as if I can’t help it.

I don’t write this blog as a means for anyone to feel pity for me or my situation. In fact, I do almost the exact opposite. I want to open your eyes to things you may be oblivious to. Don’t take it for granted. Don’t take your family for granted, whether it be the way your mother looks at your father after he cracks the same joke for the hundredth time that day, or the way your siblings wave to your parents with pride when they spot them in a crowded room. When you complain about the way they nag on you for your grades, just remember some of us don’t have that luxury.

Despite the years gone by, I still have hope in my heart for a family one day, whether it be of my own or to watch someone else I love grow a family I can watch from the sidelines.

Maybe the truth is, we don’t all get happily-ever-after. I’ve come to the realization that if we were all happy in this world, it would be a strange world to live in. I mean, just imagine walking down the street to see everyone with a smile. We would all be the same. We have to have some people out there be unhappy. If we never knew cruelty, we would never know happiness. So in a way, it all balances out. If I have to take one for the team and be unhappy, so be it.

Still, when the dream comes to me every so often, I find peace within myself in the few moments before I completely come to in the morning, because at that point I’m not aware that it is not my reality.  Just imagine having a family filled with so much love and happiness you can hardly stand it. Unfortunately, we have to face what cards we are dealt with. And I wasn’t dealt the hand I long for at times. I can’t cry about it though. And maybe, rather than having my happily-ever-after all the time, I’ll settle for those few moments every now and then when I wake up from those dreams. I’d much rather feel the love and warmth of my dream family than never having it at all.

Besides, like Annie tends to say, the sun will come out tomorrow. 

Sometimes the sun comes out with a family, sometimes it doesn’t.

Either way, it will all be okay. It has to be okay.

 

 

Until next time,

 

Tay

 

Watch Your Mouth

“Loneliness is one hell of a drug” -Kurt Cobain

     I’ve never been the center of attention. In fact, when things get to be about me I tend to freak out a bit. Birthday parties were a stressful time as a child for me. They still are. I would much rather take the day to spend it loving someone else. I love theatre, never wanting to be on stage, but rather enjoying the presence of the techie life. I can’t stand things revolving around me.

     That being said, that doesn’t mean I enjoy being pushed to the side like I’m nothing.

     I feel that because I excuse myself from the spotlight, I am automatically cast into the wings of the world where people are put to seem as if they do not exist. But I do. I do exist.

     I feel and I breathe, and I cry and I bleed just like everyone else. And maybe I’m just a leave-able, use-able person. And maybe I’m just feeling extra sorry for myself tonight.

     People don’t understand what their actions do to others sometimes. When you toss someone to the side, you ruin them. You have ruined a part of them that will never be a whole again, no matter how small that part may seem. 

“You’re annoying.” You say. Or you cancel. Or you aren’t there for them. Or you choose someone else. Or you ignore them. Or you belittle them. Or make fun of them. “That idea is stupid.” Or even worse or them all, you leave.

     Picture them as a glass plate. Every time you do something hurtful to them, you’re causing more damage. It could be as tiny as a chip from an accidental drop, or as large as completely shattering them. Either way, they will never fit together the same again. 

     We are so hurtful without even realizing what we do is damaging. We get so caught up amongst ourselves that we forget about how we make others feel with our actions. Think about that next time you say something to someone, or throw them off as if they don’t matter. To you, it may seem like it is nothing. It may even seem like it wasn’t a big deal. But to them, it could have shattered everything that is left of their ceramic.

     At this point in my life, I have become acquainted with the idea of people not sticking around long enough or staying true to their word. It doesn’t hurt me any more. But to others, this could be completely new. This could be what feels like to the end of the world to them because they just do not understand what is happening.

     It is not them.

     Watch your mouth. Watch your hands.

     I am fragile and weak at times. I bend and I break easily. Sometimes, I don’t say things right. Or, in most cases, say things at all. I am flawed. I let people walk over me a lot more than I probably should. I will never have the balls of Meredith Grey to just come right out and say “Pick me, choose me, love me.” But of course, I’ll always wish you did.
Until next time,
Tay❤

Letting the World Change my Smile


“Smile, though your heart is aching. Smile, even though it’s breaking.” 

I am pissed.

And not in your sassy, perky, know-it-all, typical teenager way.

This is different

I’m so angry I can hardly breathe or move or hell, even write this blog.

I want to understand. No,

I need to understand.

Since when did it become okay to be so hateful to each other? Your friends. Your peers. Your loved ones. These are people. We are people. And yet we sit here and hate so much.

We hate on social media by hiding behind computer screens and the vibrant glow of our cell phones.

We hate in person by laughing and pointing, or ignoring at all costs.

We hate to mask our own self impurities by pointing out what we define as flaws in others. Because as long as there is a problem in someone else, we no longer have to address the issues within ourselves, right?

Since when did it become okay to be so cruel?

I grew up thinking that everyone on earth had the same thought process and love in their hearts as I did. Maybe that was dumb on my part. To be quite honest, I did read Peter Pan a few too many times. I’ve just always thought kindness was an instinctive response. 

And I guess because of that instinct of my own, I automatically assume that everyone else is first to show kindness as well. But they’re not. If anything, it is the last thing they feel the need to do. 

Nobody is kind anymore in this world.

(Disclosure. I know a handful. And I keep them very close to my heart.)

Humans are exhausting. Many do things for the sole purpose of benefiting themselves, or for their egotistical mindset. I never understood the world and how so many people could really do the awful things that they do.

And here I thought for a while, “It’s just petty high school drama.” But it never ends, even when your tassle is on the left side of your head.

What used to be “My best friend is talking bad about me behind my back” turns into even bigger things that take a giant toll on your heart. High school is nothing compared to the real world. In fact, the two places have nothing to do with whether or not people are shitty. They’re shitty no matter where you go.

My heart is rather worn and tired. And I’m not even to my 20’s yet. I shouldn’t have to say things like this, but I genuinely feel as if my heart cannot take anymore cruelty from the people of this world.

“You’re just a teenager, quit whining.” Says the adult, perched with one hand on their hip and their choice of alcohol in the other. “Nothing lasts forever.”

You’re right. I am a teenager. And I’m probably whining a lot right now, so you’re right about that too. But this is very real for me. People are horrid. People are mean. And I’m having a hard time understanding it. When I don’t understand something, it tends to take an even greater toll on me. And for me, who has only been around for 18 years, this is the only “forever” I’ve known. This feels like forever.

For those of you who understand what I feel, or are maybe going through it yourself, I want you to know that I applaud you for still finding the courage to crawl out of bed everyday. The world is a nasty place.

Your friends aren’t friends sometimes. And you may feel lost, and alone, but everyday you smile and show gratitude and kindness to everyone who comes your way.

That is truly the good in the world.

So, why you may be seeing a lot of bad, a lot of evil, a lot of horror and deceit, let this ring true;

No matter how shitty people may be, you can have a glimmer of hope inside of you knowing that somewhere out there, there is someone just like you who feels and hurts beside you. And that as long as there are smiles on faces and a sun in the sky, there is at least some good in the world.

I, at least, have to believe that this won’t last forever. But that doesn’t mean that people don’t suck right now. 

Or maybe it will last forever, and we will just learn how to not be so affected by it.

Whatever works, I guess.

Until next time,

Tay❤

13 Reasons Why, and Why It Is So Important

   “You can’t love someone back to life.”

    You’ve been living under a rock if you haven’t seen or heard an advertisement for the Netflix Original Series, 13 Reasons Why adapted from the book by Jay Asher. YouTube, Pandora, Instagram. The team behind this really used platforms to their advantage to advertise. Executive producers, Selena Gomez and her mother Mandee, have been working on this project for 7 years and it finally came into the world this past Friday.

     If you haven’t read the book, you are completely missing out. I read it my freshmen year of high school, and cried for 30 minutes after the back cover had closed. When I heard of the movie adaptation, I was exhilarated. Rather than doing a full on movie, where they have to limit the storyline to 2 hours, they decided to, instead, make it into a mini series. That is 13 episodes, each an hour long, instead of just 2 hours.

    The series does an incredible job at conveying every thought, emotion, and so on and so forth. They took each character, from the book and the movie script, and made them into one. The book, as amazing as it was, tended to be cut and dry. It lasted one night. With the series, it takes place over the span of days, and adds so much depth to every aspect. You become attached to each character, feeling for them, or hating them completely. Not only is it brilliant acting, it sends out such a powerful message to everyone who has watched it.

     The directors and writers certainly didn’t try to shy away from any of the difficult parts, which I think is so important. 

     I’ll go ahead and tell you, Hannah Baker killed herself. Obviously. But before she died, she records herself telling the stories as to why it all lead up to that point. 13 reasons. (The title is basically self-explanatory.) Hannah then puts these tapes out into the world for each person to listen to and pass on to the next.
     In our world today, topics like suicide, rape, addiction, even LGBTQ, are deemed as “taboo” because no one wants to talk about it. But that’s our issue. We need to talk about it.

     13 Reasons Why does exactly this. It isn’t one of those things you watch and say “Wow, that was sad,” turn it off, and never think about it again. You watch it, and you are left in awe, because ladies and gentlemen, this is real life. This happens every single day. Everything you say and do affects the people around you. You must be so incredibly gentle with your words, and even more with your actions.

     A lot of what happens to Hannah Baker happens because of the phrases and motions of others. They never thought about what they were saying to her, doing to her, because to them, she would just get over it. To them, it was no big deal. They were blending in.

     Being cool stops when your popularity kills someone.

     I send great applause to everyone connected with this project, because I can only imagine the difficulty of some of the scenes. But for them to have shown what they showed instead of forgetting that it happened, sends a magnitude of reality to all of the viewers, especially those who have been in that place before. I’m not going to include any spoilers in here, but for those of you who have read the book or finished the series, you know exactly the scenes I am talking about.

     Our society desperately needed this as a wake up call. We are so overwhelmed with what our Instagram caption should be, or which aesthetically pleasing thought we should write to fit under 140 characters on Twitter. No one finds time to genuinely care about people anymore. We have become obsessed with ourselves and our appearances to the outside world, that nothing else matters. 

     Upon (binge)watching the show, I could name almost everyone from my graduating class in high school that had done something similar to one of the 13 events that went on.What if they had pushed someone to do that?

     Everyone is Hannah Baker. Everyone on this earth has the capability to do what she did. This show left me with that notion. I find myself seeking out other people who I know are going through things, who I see post about how they need someone on Twitter.

     They are calling out for help, and all you did was tweet about how you needed your daily Starbucks fix. 

     After finishing the last episode, I scrolled through Twitter. At the time, it was rather late at night, and as we all know, everyone tends to become a little more sad as the night falls deeper. There were about seven people tweeting things like “I wish I had someone to talk to.” I messaged everyone I saw and told them they always had someone to love them, and that someone was me.

     If everyone took two seconds to do that for someone, we could help save lives.

     13 Reasons Why can save lives.

     If you have yet to watch the series, I suggest that you start. Instead of another season of a show that won’t teach you anything, this one will stick with you for a long time.

      Just love one another, okay? Stop being cruel, obsessed people. Hannah Baker could be someone you love. I’m sure you wouldn’t like to hear your voice on a tape, saying that you were a reason why.
Until next time,
Tay❤

Hope When You Take That Jump, You Don’t Feel the Fall

“I owned every second that this world could give. I saw so many places, the things that I did. And with every broken bone, I swear I lived.” I Lived- OneRepublic

You are made for so much more than you have yet to offer yourself.

Imagine yourself in 20 years, surrounded by nothing but posted bucket lists and uncompleted dreams that drown in the tsunami of paperwork of your office.

You answer the ringing phone every damn day, with the monotone voice of a robot from Corporate America. You abide by the rules set up by an unnamed source, because that’s what you think life is made up of. At the end of the day, you are alone.

Where did the time go? Just yesterday you were promising yourself next Friday, and then next month, and then next year. You put off your dreams because you were too afraid or out of habit, you found something to hinder your wishes. You shoved these daydreams away in a file folder deep within the crevices of a shelf, to the point “tomorrow” turned into 20 years later and now your frownlines cover what could have been laugh lines or scars. 

 Spontaneity could have blown dirt in to your eyes and damaged one centimeter of your vision for the rest of your life.

 You could have a scar on your thumb from the time you could have gone skydiving, when the latch to your parachute didn’t want to open. 

You could have burned off a part of your left set of eyelashes when you could have ventured into the depths of the woods for a bonfire, getting accidentally too close to the flame.

You could have conquered your fear of heights and jumped off that cliff into the shallow, blue waves. Instead, you decided to go to work and kiss your boss’s ass to get that promotion.

You could have the love of your life by now from sneaking out at 2am to embark on an adventure at the top of a building. Instead, you were too scared that you may get caught, and grades were more important that one night.

You could have found that soundtrack on the road trip halfway across the country with your best friends. Instead, you listen to the same, dull songs in your brand new convertible you chose to save up for. 

Any of these scenarios could have been beneficial to your life. But there was always an excuse, wasn’t there? There was always a time when you didn’t have enough time, when you had to be somewhere. 

When the world stops turning, will you be proud of the life you made for yourself? Will you be overjoyed, excited, that you never did all the things you had planned to do? Will you look back and wish that you had?

Or will you be enlightened that you did? Will you have a story to tell at late night get-togethers that crack the rest of your friends into fits of hysterical laughter? Will you shake your head at the embarrassment as blood rises to your cheeks?

Stop making excuses and pushing off your dreams until tomorrow. Tomorrow it will be “tomorrow.” And then it will be tomorrow. And so on and so forth. Do it now, while you can. While you have air in your lungs. While you have organs in your body. 

If you don’t do it now, you never will.

I for one, don’t want to spend my whole life just to climb a ladder of promotions and raises. I want to swim in oceans, and laugh until I can’t feel my chest. I want to love until it hurts, and look back and smile.

I hope you do the same. Because one day, we won’t have anymore hours to look forward to or tomorrows to push on to. 

Do it.

Do it.

Do it.

And then do it again.

Until next time,

Tay❤