I love words.

I love what they represent, but, more than that, I love them for what they are.

Words are beautiful.  Amazing.  Mismatched stings of letters that describe and determine everything that does or could exist, even if these things exist only within the words themselves.

It’s why I love books so much.  An entire world within my hands, within the pages, within the words.

And it’s not just fiction that has the potential to be beautiful.  Life itself is such a wonderful gift, but so many people use words to make it miserable and wrenching and  desolate.

It shouldn’t be that way.

Oh – I’m not perfect.  I’ve said my share of horrible things over the years.  We all have.  But we all have the gift of free will:  the potential to better ourselves.

Sometimes it’s hard, but we truly won’t see the blessings that surround us every day unless we look for them.  Unless we open our eyes and we smile.

Unless we make the choice to be happy.  And to share that happiness.

And words are there, waiting to help us share it.  Because every time you put words together you have the opportunity to make something beautiful.  Something happy.

You have the choice of bringing forth happiness into this world, or bringing forth despair.

What a powerful choice that is.