Possibilities Not Certainties Anonymous

I vaguely recall the cozy, packed Dunwoody apartment I first lived in—the patchwork couch I would scramble onto while fleeing my volcanic floor, the artificial plants that transported me to the Amazon rainforest. When my family upgraded to a house in a Duluth suburb, I remember staring blankly at the empty canvases of my new home, feeling trapped by its unlimited freedom. With time, I transformed vacant rooms into classrooms, publishing offices, recital halls. It is in this house that I learned to explore and imagine beyond my surroundings, to create entertainment and enrichment in possibilities instead of in certainties.