My story won’t reach the world. It won’t be known by all. But I hope it finds that one young girl who dreams of greatness. She was me not long ago. When I write these words I am the same as you. But I’ve grown old now. I miss the one thing you need to make dreams happen, the one thing you have that I do not anymore — time. Spend it like you’re rich, savour it like you’re poor. One day, you will not have any left. Do not reach that day too soon. Let your heart control it, your soul guide you through it. For your mind likes to count it, but time is beyond this world. It’s relative. Figure out where and with whom it feels infinite. That is the goal in this life. Slow time enough to revel in it.
