When I turn around and let myself slip into contemplation over the considerable insignificant incidents of my existence on this planet (and please keep in mind that I am referring to a comparatively small period of seventeen years, the age which shoots into the mind a picture of an irrational young girl, as the elders may have it, with inexperience of what many may call "life"), I find a vast expanse of knowledge to seek from each success, each failure that I have so far come across, so vast that god forbid by some catastrophe I shall have no chance to experience my life any further, I could while away a good seventy-eighty years just pondering over my silly actions and irrevocable decisions that now fill my heart with remorse due to the turn of events that they might have led to, exploiting philosophically all that I possibly can from those few that exist, turning wiser by the second, maybe ending up even wise enough to complete the rest of my life with just these few lessons; if this be the wisdom offered to one by life even before the painful arrival of their wisdom tooth, that offered to a person for forty, or sixty years old can positively make you read to experience in every realm, any kind of sorrow, any kind of agony, or any kind of negative feeling of any sort since thereafter, you would only think of hurt or pain spiritually instead of emotionally, so the next time something comes your way to throw you off your track of happiness, burst your bubble with it's sharp edges, give your lacrimal glands a break and THINK, learn, make a new, stronger bubble which is effectively resistant to the same kind of obstacles that it's failed to conquer before, as many times as you have to, until you finally find your way to the secret list of ingredients to make one that's entirely pop-free. :)