Why can't life be a warm slab of brie with balsamic splashed on top. A few wheat crackers on the side and lots, lots, of champagne?
Why can't life be fresh flowers in a crystal vase by the bedside table?
Why can't life be lots of friends, really tried and true friends who you can sit in comfortable silence with?
Why can't life be a good book, not wanting to finish the last few pages because you don't want it to end?
Why can't life be a shopping spree, where everything you find is fabulous, fits, and is on sale?
Why can't everyday be a hand written letter from a long lost love who begs for your forgiveness?
Why can't everyday be a ride in the convertible, top down, Yo La Tengo blaring through the clouds, wind in your hair?
Why can't we know then what we wish we could learn now?
Why should color matter, unless you're admiring a rainbow?
Why can't we use the word "dislike" instead of hate when referring to opinions?
Why can't air, water, grass, the pursuit of happiness be free for all?