Life is a ... cream pie in the face

Sometimes it's like getting a pie in the face. Laughing, you lick it off, feeding it to your friends, splattering the walls beside you. Then you chase down the guilty pie thrower. Leaping cars and small children effortlessly in your quest for revenge, nothing can stand in your way. You will rub their face in it. No matter that the cream got on your favorite dress and will soon turn sour and start to stink. No, you will burn the dress and keep the ashes in a pretty vase on the mantle as a reminder of the Night of the Cream Pie.

Sometimes it's a song that gets in your blood and pounds and pounds and pounds on your soul until your feet start tapping, your fingers snapping, and before you know it you're dancing wildly, jumping, kicking, shouting. There is no what if, no fear of falling, no fear of discovery. The song comes bellowing out of you in a great roar, your ribcage swelling, unable to contain it as it comes tumbling out of your throat, bouncing off of the walls and into the street, up the steps and into your neighbor's living room. Even though you "can't sing."

Sometimes you've just got to grab life hard by both ears and eat it's whole goddamn face off!