When you were 5, your mom gave you an ice cream cone. You thanked her by yelling at her that it's the wrong kind.

When you were 9, your mom drove you from swimming class to soccer and one birthday party to another. You thanked her by slamming the door and never looking back.

When you were 10, your mom payed for piano classes. You thanked her by never coming to class.

When you were 12, your mom was waiting for a very important call. You thanked her by talking on the phone all night.

When you were 14, your mom payed for a month away at summer camp. You thanked her by not bothering to write a single letter.

When you were 16, your mom taught you how to drive her car. You thanked her by taking it every chance you got.

When you were 17, your mom drove you to the mall and gave you her credit card. You thanked her by maxing it out.

When you were 18, your mom cried at your high school graduation. You thanked her by partying until dawn.

When you were 20, your mom drove you to college. You thanked her by saying good-bye to her outside the dorm so you wouldn't have to say bye in front of your friends.

When you were 26, your mom payed for your wedding. You thanked her by moving halfway across the world.

When you were 30, your mom fell ill and needed you to take care of her. You thanked her by reading about the burden parents became to children.

Then, one day, she quietly died and everything you did came crashing down on you.

If YOU love your mom, re-post this and if you don't, you won't care if your mom dies, will you

**0O

OBITUARY FOR THE LATE MR. COMMON SENSE

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: Knowing when to come in out of the rain; why the early bird gets the worm; Life isn't always fair; and Maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge). His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6 year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get Parental consent to administer Calpol, sun lotion or a band-aid to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason.

He is survived by his 3 stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I'm A Victim. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

**0O

You Know You're a Book Addict If:

You can randomly open to a page and know exactly what's going on.

Read the book until 4 A.M., then get back up at 7 to continue reading.

You try to get all of your friends (and everyone else) to read your favorite books.

You accidentally call everyone by the character's names.

Everything reminds you of the book.

You quote random lines all the time.

You try to do things that the characters do, even though you know you can't.

You've gotten incredibly bored in class, and debated on doing something your favorite character can do to escape the class.

You have pictures of your favorite characters on your iPod.

You've got a book memorized.

You've read a book more than five times.

You've read a book with 400 pages in less than two days.

You've planned and prepared a siege on a writer's house because he/she killed a character you like.

You've plotted to murder a character and steal her boyfriend.

You hate it when someone calls your favorite character fictional.

You blatantly deny it when someone calls a character fictional.

Your idol is a character from a book.

xxxx

How to Tell if You're a Writer

If you talk to yourself.

If you talk to yourself about talking to yourself (i.e. 'I wonder why I talk to myself so much?')

If, when you talk to yourself, you sometimes speak as if talking to another person (i.e. 'Okay, so have you ever noticed that the word 'deliver' could mean removing someone's liver?')

If, after uttering a profound piece of wisdom like that above, you stare at the cookie in your hand in awe and say, 'Wow, this is good stuff for sugar highs!'

If you live off of sugar and caffeine.

If people start to notice that you tend to check your e-mail every day for a week, then suddenly disappear off the face of the planet.

If your e-mails tend to be pages long and incredibly random.

If, when replying to someone else's e-mail, you are sometimes so random that you fail to address the original message altogether.

If, no matter where you are in your room, you never have to so much as get up to reach a pen/pencil and paper. (I have literally thousands of pencils scattered around my house, and, like, nine objects used to write. Two laptops, three notebooks, over two hundred sticky notes, another carry-me-in-a-purse notebook, agenda, and hand. Yes, I write on my hand. A LOT.)

If the letters are starting to wear off on the keys of your keyboard.

If you start constantly talking in third person, past tense.

If you think about making lists like this, and start giggling for no 'apparent' reason.

To all other young fiction authors out there. Copy and paste if you wish. It just needs to be said, and needs to be heard;

You may be a reject. You may not be smooth with the spoken word. You may be the most popular kid in school. You may be the boss at your office. You may be short or tall or heavy or light or anorexic or white or dark or struck by an unfriendly label. You may be the homeless guy on the corner or the one inside the store signing books as you hand them out. You may listen to Justin Bieber or to Three Days Grace. But what you are is a writer; never doubt the power of what you can do. Tell me, what did you learn more from this year; the President, or the Hunger Games? The senator or Rick Riordan? The public speaker or Clarissa Fray? Your boss or Pi Patel? American Idol or the Twilight Saga? A list of facts or Harry Potter? Which of them stole the most of your time? Which is more well-known?

It's the book. Every time. People fail to realize flaws in our society in their own lives, but they see it in District Twelve and in the Capitol. Books make clear what we can't see with the naked eye. Authors are the ones that speak to people's hearts. Writers are the ones people turn to for lessons and entertainment. It's been this way for thousands of years. We are the teachers of every child who opens a book. The themes we write are the themes they learn. We are there in every life, a quiet influence bound in a pretty cover, months' worth of work and reading, colored with imagery built around the lightning rod of an unforgettable plot line. A story spent months reading is memorable more than a speech listened to for just five minutes. I can't name all the leaders of the world right now, nor what they decide to preach about, but I can tell you all the characters from Percy Jackson, and every little thing they taught me. And they are things worth learning.

So don't think there's a better way to make a point. Don't think there's a better way to reach your audience. Fiction stories have been striking the hearts of their readers farther back than anyone alive can remember. And striking the heart is what makes literature so different from everything else. Don't ever doubt your ability to show someone something new, to teach them a life lesson, or the importance of what you have to say. Say it in this foreign language everyone knows. Decorate it with characters and light it with sights and smells and sounds and touches and tastes and give it to the public gift-wrapped with your finest effort. Because I guarantee you, someone is bound to hear you clearer than they've heard anyone else before.

I hope you've found some words of inspiration. The world needs it desperately. Do us all a favor, all you writers, and come out of hiding. We've had the greatest influence of all over people of the past, and as we act now, we are the ones influencing the future. We have more knives and pens than the BVB Army, more sway in society than the Senate, (whom we have proved this to before), more power than any celebrity you could name. I'm calling on you now. Rise up. I dare you to write something today that readers won't forget. I challenge you to make someone cry with one thin little page of text. I urge, no, I demand you to put something down on paper that'll be copied and produced and remembered for longer than Ancient Mythologies have been. I dare you to slam a revolving door*. I demand you to write a message in the folds of a book and watch how, in awe, people unwrap it. Watch your footprints stand bold against the falling snow and refuse to be covered. It is all possible, I assure you. You have no idea just what power you hold in a pen - or a keyboard - until you use it.

And right now, the world needs you to use it more than ever.

We, writers, have made history. We were the ones to record it. And that ability has not changed at all, just our awareness and will to use it. We were given the gift language and storytelling for a reason.

This is that reason. It's calling. So ask yourself what message you want to send. Ponder about what you want to say. Because the world is listening to us above all other beings currently on this earth. Us, not the movies, not the official-labeled politicians, not the superstars. And it's our job to give it a story yuo can raed tihs, cnorgadluatoins! you are one of the samrt peploe who dno't need to look at the wrod idniviudlaly, but as a wolhe! Olny samrt poelpe can raed tihs bceuase tehy are good raedres. Msot good raedres can raed wrdos wehn the frist and lsat ltetres of the wrod are the smae, and tehre are the smae auomnt of lteters in the wrod...if you could read that, copy and paste this onto your profile