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Who are you? No, be honest. Who. Are. You. You may think you know, but I believe that the only time you know who you truly are is when you are breathing your last breath. I know, it's morbid. But allow me to explain myself.

Do you realize that when a male releases sperm, he is releasing millions of different cells? Each with hundreds of thousands of possibilities within them, and each have the possibility of, well, screwing up? I mean, with one mutation, you could be born with a hole in your heart, or your intestines outside of you. Maybe even born with your eyelids sealed shut. And God forbid anything worse happen. Not only that, you could have been born to an abusive crack addict. Or to a strict young mother in Nepal who prefers to force her children to work rather than allow them to play. You could've been a bird in the Amazon, or a penguin in Antarctica.

You understand what I'm talking about here? All these possibilities add up. There are trillions upon trillions of lives that you could have lived, things you could have done, people you could have hated, or loved. I mean, Hell, you could have come into creation on a different planet. Can you imagine that? You could be purple with scales and tentacles, or maybe not even seen with the human eye.

Out of all these possibilities…you were born. You, who live your own life, sing your favorite songs, goes to your school, and remember your own memories. You, who hear your surroundings, see what's to be seen, and breathe your own air. You are you.

Put simply, you are a miracle.

Now, I am partially religious. I do believe in a god. So, when I think about all this, I wonder: "Who didn't make it? Who could be in my place right now? Whose life could I be living?"

But then I remember what my mother always says. "Usted está aquí por una razón." You are here for a reason. And so are all of you.

One of you could be the next JFK. Or Marilyn Monroe. Or Paris Hilton. Or, God willing, you could be the next Ghandi.

So when you feel like you're a waste of life and that you're not loved and that you want to die, remember this. Someone believes in you. Someone wants you to leave an impression.

Someone put you here for a reason

Description
Who are you? No, be honest. Who. Are. You. You may think you know, but I believe that the only time you know who you truly are is when you are breathing your last breath. I know, it's morbid. But allow me to explain myself.

Do you realize that when a male releases sperm, he is releasing millions of different cells? Each with hundreds of thousands of possibilities within them, and each have the possibility of, well, screwing up? I mean, with one mutation, you could be born with a hole in your heart, or your intestines outside of you. Maybe even born with your eyelids sealed shut. And God forbid anything worse happen. Not only that, you could have been born to an abusive crack addict. Or to a strict young mother in Nepal who prefers to force her children to work rather than allow them to play. You could've been a bird in the Amazon, or a penguin in Antarctica.

You understand what I'm talking about here? All these possibilities add up. There are trillions upon trillions of lives that you could have lived, things you could have done, people you could have hated, or loved. I mean, Hell, you could have come into creation on a different planet. Can you imagine that? You could be purple with scales and tentacles, or maybe not even seen with the human eye.

Out of all these possibilities…you were born. You, who live your own life, sing your favorite songs, goes to your school, and remember your own memories. You, who hear your surroundings, see what's to be seen, and breathe your own air. You are you.

Put simply, you are a miracle.

Now, I am partially religious. I do believe in a god. So, when I think about all this, I wonder: "Who didn't make it? Who could be in my place right now? Whose life could I be living?"

But then I remember what my mother always says. "Usted está aquí por una razón." You are here for a reason. And so are all of you.

One of you could be the next JFK. Or Marilyn Monroe. Or Paris Hilton. Or, God willing, you could be the next Ghandi.

So when you feel like you're a waste of life and that you're not loved and that you want to die, remember this. Someone believes in you. Someone wants you to leave an impression.

Someone put you here for a reason