Your 20s & life-affirming permutations will soon enough transpire accordingly, so just hope that you climbed the right ropes to reach that terrestrial summit, and from it you will fly.  From it you will fly.  It all starts here at the walnut of your wrinkled brain matter, where many imaginative story lines trundle along in these miniscule pipeline scales of being. Being, now that's some evasive phenomenon, some kinetic agitated spring flinging through fog & plasma.  Someone will learn you some day, millions of months down the path leading to newer futuristic frontiers.  Maybe the idea of your soul will roll on eternally to greet your Maker in the Grand Finale of all this kinetic drama, this hoopla, this brouhaha.  Have faith in your Maker, & it will roll on eternally in His warm embrace.  See it written in wavelengths that span the universe, wavelengths that send back news to you like special telegrams, while you wait patiently, about a promise of a better tomorrow, a greater, superior tomorrow.  Night for now.  Rest well & let the great ideas swell over a bowl of Cheerios on the fresh morning that's sure to arrive when the rooster crows & the fog lifts back to the seat of the skies.  Cheers.