You may begin. {run with wings outspread}

The first month. The month that entails wild parties practically reeking of Peter Pan complexes, week-long road trips with friends just because you can even without solid planning, bonfires that shoot high, fueled by the year's Geometry binders and history notes and English reports. The month that consists of late storms, late mornings, and even later nights. The month of three-second plans, spur-of-the-moment ideas, and adventures you'll be talking about years from now.

This is June, in all its reckless, untamed glory. This is the beginning of summer, a three-month taste of the rest of your life. We forget responsibility, logic, caution, and all sense of self control as we charge forth in this world toward our lives, where reality meets reason and dreams are a form of conscience

It is in this month of total abandon that I choose to begin documentation in the form of Words. What better way to recount the excitement, energy, passion, and love that will certainly be my life for the next three months? Small things, tremendous moments, unbelievable circumstances...

all will be written here, from my heart and hand.

But to what end? Perhaps my children will read my Words decades from today. Perhaps I will find myself looking back and remembering what Was, because everyone has

to take a break sometimes from what Is. Perhaps every Word and photograph will be forgotten, lost to all who would ever care and even to those who wouldn't.But this is a month of possibilities. This month, and this life alike. So for all the possibilities, I Write. And for all other writers, it is Possible.