As the cold winds of January rush to me as I step out of work, I remember all the great times that define the kind of person I've become. Every second of the day matters like each centavo in the world today. What you decide to do defines you and it may make you dirty or humbled. Life has never been so meaningful without the gashes we take in every injury we face; they make you realize that life, indeed, is one hell of a ride. Each day isn't always happy, and not at all sad; it's a mix of what you make it, and it's not all that bad. Whatever the day had been, it will always end up the same; you'd still sleep on a still night not caring about anything while you sink deeper into your dreams.