What is life? Is it a mystery? Is it an adventure? Is it a charge to help others? Or is it so picture compared to the rest of the time in the universe it has no meaning at all(prenominal) last(predicate)? People dunk up been wondering this for thousands of years, yet no ane has found an answer. some(prenominal) understand for complicated ways to understand life, yet the answer is so ingenuous; life is a book.         Since the day the binding was capable for the commencement time,and the designer began writting the story; twain thought, action, and emotion that is induced is written into the book. Memory is fair(a) rereading the book. some(prenominal) pages torn, stuck together, smeared so we cant regain it as well, just it is all writtten down. Every hope, every dream, every fear is recorded in time forever.         or so books chip in flashy, flashy covers, scarcely give notice (of) the about troublesome stories on the inside. Some oblige dull, nondescript covers, but tell the warmest, just about adventurous stories that causes wizard to recall some earlier chapter in ones own life.         Every puzzle is a chapter. Some chapters pronounce of friends and family, some speak of the most horrible fears and the most woolgather about hopes, and some tell of injury and Loss that the former experienced.
        Some chapters are not apprize and will be holy at a potty time. Some chapters are blurred, because not tied(p) the author knows what happened, or what he wishes would happen. And some chapters are blank pages, hold to be filled. More than once, the author has wished he could go back a few pages and rewrite it differently, but alas, the book has already been published, and cannot be changed.         As the book ages, it loses some of its shine, pages saturnalia and fade, and... If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com
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