Life isn’t perfect. If it was it would look like a text book, uniform, perfect, and boring. The ending would make sense, there would be no unanswered questions, and no useless information.

Instead, life is more like a book that has been written by many, many different authors. Ones that don’t really tie what they say into what the others have said. There would be stains, handwritten notes in the margins, highlighted phrases. Pages would be torn out, and some pages would just be blank. In the end there would be too many unanswered questions to count, and it would leave off in the middle of a chapter. 

Bottom of the line is that life is messy, it’s not perfect, and sometimes you don’t know what the hell is going on. But would you want it any other way? :)