Introduction

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Most people believe in something, whether it be magic, fate, or God himself. Yet, I choose to believe that magic is fictional, fate is another form of unrealistic hope, and God is a crutch. The only truth in this world; the only thing worth believing, is that humans are the branches in this tree we call earth. That we can be moved and changed with a gust of wind. Some are broken by the pressure of the leaves, some are strong and rise above the others, some are weak and depend on the strong to grow, some are fragile, rough, rotted through, and we are all different.

Different as we all don't think alike, nor breathe the same pattern, nor live the same life. We all have our own independent look at living, some look at the life we were granted as a gift, as something to be cherished with the people you love. Others find life to be a poison, a chip on your shoulder that ways you down everyday, until one day you are in the ground. Robert Trundle looks at all life to be a poison, and yet he just became president. Death brings him life, sorrow gives him joy, and loss brings him happiness.

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