Sometimes it seems like a joke, or part of a black comedy. That God would give me talent, real and true talent. And then make me me. Why would he do that? It seems to me like a waste of resources. But I'm not one to think God wastes resources. So where does that leave the mess of me? The talent wrapped in crazy-paper? Driving down the road, at 8 in the morning, that's where. Feeling the sun warm my skin in the way that only the sun can. Staring at the mountains. Thinking of all I have. All I have been given. And my mom taught me to be polite, so I must say thank you for the gift, and use it well. Even if I'm not sure what that means.