Settle me down in a place where the mountains and the ocean could concievably meet for lunch. A place where the clouds cry and the concrete provides a immovable should to cry on.

Because once upon a time there was a girl who lived in a town which fooled her into think that it was profound and could provide her with the experience she needed to become great. However it turned out that this town, and perhaps many of the people in it, were miserable, flat imitations.

It's shoreline was bleak, and backed with the empty shells of homes whose owners were far too important to live in them. The university which she had thought she had fallen in love with was nothing more than several bricks rooted in swamp. And the community was riddled with pretension and malice. Even the Spanish moss, which the girl had thought to be most romantic, now seemed to be dying in the trees.

It's true that the girl was writing, and reading, and researching -- but if 'home' felt as though it were suffocating her, snuffing out the pieces of her which she loved the most, does it really much matter?

Don't be afraid to be silly.
Life can't be that serious -- afterall, like a wise man once said, no one gets out alive anyway,
Don't be in such a hurry to get it all over with.
Adventure isn't going anywhere, make the most of your ability
to be irresponsible.

I would hide her reservations, her impatience, and the awful black nail polish that she used to slather on with relish.

I would tell her to be more colorful. More honest. With herself. With her parents. With the sibling that needed her most.

I would beg her to climb more trees, read more novels, and compose more paintings [though even in the future, acryllics and canvas will never be her favorite medium]. I'd tell her to never forget to look out fo herself first and foremost, and to remember number one. Afterall, she did enjoy painting herself as a modern Scarlett O'Hara.

I would tell her that the boy she was dating wasn't what she had dreamt he would be, and that she shouldn't be so sure of him. I would remind her that her heart is not made of stone, and no one is impervious to pain. But I would also tell her to go through with it anyway because she'll learn a lot, and everyone needs to annihilate their heart so that it can grow back stronger.

I would remind her the joys of being easily exciteable. I'd remind her of the pretty pictures the trees make when they throw themselves at the sky during the sunset. I would remind her that their is no sound more satisfying than the crackle of a grilled cheese on the skillet. I would remind her that their is nothing more important than throwing yourself out there, and making yourself seen and heard. There is beauty in being shot down. Even over and over again.

I would remind her to remember which people have her best interest at heart, and which people will disappear after graduation.

I would tell her that she's a smart girl, and she shouldn't forget it.

I would tell her to make better use of her time, because one afternoon
she'll realize it's gone.
And I know for a fact that she'll miss it.