So now it becomes so

So now, has he fallen, that he now walks among the humans in search for love, although the meaning defeats him still, and that he starts to speak in the natural tongue, mais tous les choses sont sale et triste, mais il n'y a rien qui peux le aider.

Greetings

Greet Life each day
With a resounding laugh
That today will be the day
That anything is possible
If you bear no fear
Greeting life each day

Work done is equal to Force x Distance

What is work done actually? People slave and labour over work in order to produce something good and useful, but again, what determines the goodness and utility of their products? To me, everything done by humans are senseless and mortifying. They play games and work as though it was hell, spend and eat to satisfy hungers of every sort, and stress themselves no end to balance up things a little. And the cycle repeats indefinitely. Maybe that's why Providence created humans. Just to see how they fabricate these little games to torture themeselves, just as I would watching the animals engage themselves in meaningless actions, it amuses me to no end.

The Fog Sets In

As my glasses fog and the coat of oil thickens, I thought I was already dead, and the motions merely a repeat of my accustomed activties. Yet I feel sensations of pain in my arms. But it could still be hallucinations, I thought.

It was Black Wednesday, where everything more or less went wrong. It was a big blow to my ritualized activties. I don't understand. That no matter how hard I try, my mire deepens. I detest groupwork. When expectations fall flat and get kicked in the stomach, you wonder where has the effort gone to, and why are you still kicking and alive, when there is no time for anything. And all for naught. I remain misanthropic and probably continue to be so.

The school could have very well fallen flat today.