Once upon a time, a tiny ball of snow sat atop a hill. One afternoon, a wind came along and nudged the little ball over the crown of the slope. Slowly, the ball began to roll... down, down, down. As it passed over the land, it gradually picked up more and more snow to add to its constitution. With the newly added substance, the ball rolled faster yet, garnering still more matter.
Soon, the ball rolled with such power, such momentum and strength, that to try and act on the mass in a direction other than its rollin' way was... futile.
This, my friends, is why I have not managed to inform you all of the goings-on of my Life. The snowball has been rolling, rolling, rolling, and I have been running beside it, laughing with childlike glee all the way. I will not try to run uphill through the powdery fluff to tell you of what happened at that part of the slope or describe to you what this tree looked like when we flew past it. Because while I do that, the ball is still rolling, still passing other beautiful trees, still gathering more snow and continuing on its way. Thus I can only attempt to depict the here and now, and keep rolling along with Life as it flies.