Old lives undone, left behind, strange faces made familiar, new nightmares to challenge sleep, new friends to feel safe with...

First day of a new month.
Already, so many thoughts.
Metaphors...metaphors....metaphor....

Yes. 583...problems, relationships. Yet...everone seems so happy.
She has him...and he has her. Well, of couse there's those who have been unrequitied.

"If you really like a person, let them go; if they go, they were never yours. But if they come back they were."

Bearing that though in mind...Do we just not try? Do we just move on...and let them come to us? Do we just let them leave?

Where does it come from, this need to solve questions, when the simplest of questions can never be answered?
Do you love me? Why not? What seperates me from him? Her from you?
Why are we here? What is the soul? Why do we dream?
Yet...It is dreadful to die of thirst in the sea...Do you have to salt your truth so much that i can no longer even - qunch thrist?
81 - Beyond Good and Evil.
And...on the back of my copy of this book...."That which is done out of love always takes place beyond good and evil..."

Perhaps we'd be better off not looking at all. Not delving, not yearning. But that's not human nature. Not the human heart. That is not why we are here.


Yet still we struggle to make a difference..."to make someone love you" as 011 places it.
Or in a bigger picture...to change the world, to dream of hope, never knowing for certain who we will meet along the way.

Really...
I feel lost in your place, no one really seems to understand my mind
Do you really care to know what is it that troubles me inside?
Everything seems to be right. Today...was a show of it.

Despite 357 not being here. Yet...she is never here. It makes little difference...she choose it herself.
Everything seems to be right. Yet...I know 308 feels the same, Just...lonelness in the heart.
Everything that makes us want to cry Who among the world of strangers will hold our hand, touch our hearts, and share the pain of trying?

I've hurted my wrist. From over repetitive strain injury on the piano.
Yet I still carry on. I know it'll eventually reach to the point where I can't play the piano for a period, yet I still carry on.
I've hurted my emotions. From trying...over, and over agian to get over her.
Yet I still like her. I know I'll eventually reach to the point of piano, where I won't be able to feel anything anymore.
Yet...It's not far from that. Cynical...You know that you're cynical when even your philosophy teacher calls you that.
I can control my feelings, I'm not too far from that. I can lie to the world. I can lie to you. But...

I can't lie to myself.
In fact.
Who do I like?
No one.

We dream of hope,
We dream of change, of fire,
And most importantly of love, and of death.
And then it happens; the dream becomes real, and the answer to this, this need to solve... finally shows itself like the glowing light of the new dawn.
So much struggle for meaning, for purpose.
And in the end, we find it only in each other. Our shared experience of the fantastic and the mundane. The simple human need to find a kindred. To connect. And to know in our hearts... that we are not alone.

Today if Ƶ=5-5i
I did not realise that the scientific calculator allows us to simply go
pol (5, -5)
which gives us Sqrt 50 and θ=-45


and reverse would be Rec (Sqrt 50, -45)
giving us X=5 and Y=-5....in the form of Ƶ=x+yi
Where before was the form of Ƶ=r(cosθ+i sinθ)
The fact is...it's another little metaphor.
I though I knew my calculator....I didn't realise it could handle complex numbers and work out the modulus and the argument of the complex number. I was amazed on how it handled the information...yet...when I found out how...by using algorithms...a word which I strongly dislike after my nasty experience with decision maths.

You could know a person...for a while. Or in my case...just under half a year. Discover something new about them...and think wow...After a while you would come to realise...and find out more, that perhaps that isn't so wow. It's actually quite the opposite. You'll come to dislike it.

We all imagine ourselves the agents of our destiny. Capable of determining our own fate. But have we truly any choice in when we rise... or when we fall... or does a force larger than ourselves bid us our direction?
Like the Earth itself, it knows only the hard facts of life's struggle with death. All you can do is hope and trust that when you've served its needs faithfully... there may still remain some glimmer... of the life you once knew.

I had a heated debate over the government in China, which she called it "Totalitarian"
She dislike the feeling of having someone to control us all, to which I make a comeback at her government. Where it lies to us, just to get our votes. It lies to us...feeds us crap, and "Totalitarian" us in lying state.
In a way. Both governments are the same. Just that one is slighly worst than the other. I'll let you decide on that one.
Sometimes questions are more powerful than answers. How is this happening? What are they? Why them and not others? Why now? What does it all mean?

To everything there's a season and a time to every purpose.
The Earth spins at a thousand miles an hour as we desperately try to keep from being thrown off. Like the first blush of winter that signals a great migration, was there any warning of their arrival? A sign, a single event that set this chain into motion? Was it a whisper in God's ear? Survive, adapt, escape... And if we could mark that single moment in time? That first hint of the prophecy of approaching danger... Would we have done anything differently? Could it have been stopped or was the dice long ago cast? And if we could go back, alter its course, stop it from happening, would we?

And the last matter that's been throbbing in my mind.
I really come to dislike you. It's werid. But....Maybe it's not dislike. Maybe...I don't know.
If one was to change...Let me start over agian.
To jugde a person, it's easier to look at their friends. Therefore if a person was to change...their friends would change, and how they inter react, will too.

Well, let's look at this person, who you think has changed. Has her friends changed? I don't know, but from the looks of it, no.

Look at you. Has your friends changed how they react to you? Yes. They have.
The one person you trusted...when you was upset, he would come up and pick up the pieces for you. You lied to him, and he goes.
To survive in this world, we hold close to those people on whom we depend. We trust in them our hopes, our fears. But what happens when trust is lost?
Where do we run when things we believe in vanish before our eyes? When all seems lost, the future unknowable, our very existence in peril... all you can do is run....
Us, as a collective group...we forget and move on.
In a way...yes. We have changed how we react you to you. Makes you wonder. Has she changed...or you?

When a change comes, some species feel the urge to migrate, they call it Zugunruhe, a pull of the soul to a far off place. Following a scent in the wind, a star in the sky. The ancient message comes calling the kindred to take flight, and gather together. Only then can they hope to survive the cruel season to come.

The really infuriating thing is that you don't even make an effort. "I've tried" Think about it. Did you really? Did you really try hard enough?
Evidently no. You don't even talk about it, not even tried to sort it out. You've tried. Past tense. You've given up already. You wouldn't give up if you could find the factors to (x-1)(x-2). You'll keep on trying. Yet....
What's the point.
You're not going to help yourself. I see no point in why I spend myself typing this.
In fact. You'll read it. And pretend you read nothing. You won't even come to me , and say otherwise. You'll run away from it.
In fact.

You're so very much like him.
...rather too much...
Run...The Earth is large. Large enough that you think you can hide from anything: from fate, from God. If only you found a place far enough away. So you run... to the edge of the Earth, where all is safe again, quiet and warm. The solace of salt air. The peace of danger left behind. The luxury of grief... And maybe for a moment you believe you have escaped.

But have you? No...you can run. You can hide. You can run far, you can take your small precautions, but have you really gotten away? Can you ever escape? Or is the truth that you do not have the strength or cunning to hide from destiny? But the world is not small, you are... and fate can find you anywhere. Life is imperfect and often violent process. Morality loses its meaning. The question of good and evil, reduced to one simple choice: survive, or perish.

Survive, or perish....
Perish....Isn't that...to die?