So much food for thought in such a short frame of time.
Can I digest it all?

And her man is taken away from her by the need of protecting the country.
A point of sadness in her life to be sure, but life can be kind and forgiving for girls like that.
Miss Universe has decided on such, and she lands on her feet and anyone would only want
to love her. She will be happy again. But one should not be sad. The boy himself
would've wanted it that way; her being happy.

What kills me every time is insufficient information.
There's a thing to be said for not knowing -- a negative thing at that.
Well, I guess. Maybe. I don't regard ignorance as particularly blissful,
even when in retrospect I think I might have been generally better off unaware.
Blah. There are no such things, truly.

It's not a good time in your life when you're hurt by trifles.
Even then, it's a very real thing, unfortunately.

Alive, and able to process things again.

Well, what the fuck.

I don't always like speculation. I've got an imagination occasionally so shamefully vivid
I can suffer because of it. Being the required cool analytical person is kind of hard
when you unintendingly simultaneously make up all sorts of lovely
and painful things in your head.

But he'd like to. Only there's no way in hell for him to go around to exclaiming such.
Naïve, and stupid, and selfish, and forward, and futile, it would be. And probably not true, either.
And it would be too grand for real life, would it not?
There was something to be said for the way he had been brought up;
He certainly had never had any of the grand delusions about life
that so many others exhibited.

This week, while in school, I realized I think I need a notepad
with Elvish writing on the front saying "idea notepad" with me.
Even though I'd probably hate everything that I'd write in it later on..

The world leaves me slightly sad. I leave myself slightly sad.

I feel I'm treading on an uncharted territory.
(And I have no compass - And I have no map. Thanks.)

Our choices in the past paint out our future.
Once you make a change, it may get painful for all parties involved to change that change.
Calling the world deterministic is purely but an exercise in semantics,
as is the debate on order and chaos.

A life you have defined defines you. A life of choices.
Bad and good and choices that are both? By whose decision?
Choosing a path early on can be fatal, and you may have chosen yours.
Defining your future, it switches your rails.
And a path of life is defined, a future is set.

Plot branches chain us. These chains cannot be broken painlessly, necessarily,
but they necessarily aren't everlasting, either.
Everything changes everything else. A grand play of interaction, if you will.

I feel like I just know I'm going to have regrets from this strange time in my life.

Imagination has times when it kills you from inside. Especially when combined
into a frame of cynicism with a mind of a realist. You pain yourself daily,
silently cursing your mind for pulling off that kind of shit.

I hope not, certainly.
But can I help it?
Can I make a change?

This concept, too - the illusion of free will - a concept worth fighting against, surely,
but occasionally the genius of it comes shining through all too well. :)

Is it up to me?
Maybe my regrets will be sharply defined by someone else altogether.
Not all matters and aspects of your life can be controlled on a micro scale by yourself, you know?

Life can find you in some fucking annoying situations, you know?

Oh. Yes. God yes. But, alas. They're far away, and spoken for, and not interested,
and too different, and everything else in the world.

Can you erase a mistake with another mistake?
Take a step forward? Remain where you are?
Hurt and pain and misery and unintended suffering.
And what makes for a mistake?
Is a thing such simply because you think so at a given time?

*05.2004 update*
This page reads like a Dream Theater lyric booklet. Retch.

Back.