If life is like a box of chocolates than why does it taste so bitter? And if you never know what you’re going to get, then why is the key on the bottom of the chocolates’ box? And if life is chocolates, that would imply that death is like being eaten and digested.

I hope thats not what death is like.

But then, what is life like if not a plastic heart and with candy? How can an inanimate object describe something so intricate? Every day, people are born. Every day, people die. Every day, people help each other. They stand together. They act as one. They fight for their beliefs. They fight for peace.

But then there are others. The ones who can’t see the beauty. The ones who can’t feel the warmth. The ones who kill, who destroy rather than create. They stand alone. They act alone. They will always be alone.

So is life like a box of chocolates? I’d like to think it isn’t. I’d like to think that there is more to it than that. What? I have no idea. And maybe that’s what life is about. The wondering.