And the Escape ends

It was a fine escape to wonderland, but still, it has to end. It could have been a dream, except that when I look at my books, I know it is not. Much as I detest this return, it is a necessary evil that hovers around the masses' lives.

One searches for the meaning to the things that have been done, is doing, and will be done. It is too, a necessary evil that I establish myself as the microcosm where the different aspects must be cultivated before the country flourishes. Meaning must be sought in its own time and domain.

It begins anew.

La Vie continue: Forever Limbo

Whatever it takes, whatever comes, life continues, that slow machinery of gears and cogs grinding haltingly without purpose, without reason, it just runs. Hear the clanking, hear the whistling of complex machinery, over the ages, over the great expanse and the smallest space, without ownership, without control, until one day, one day, it stops and the whole world stops with them.

Life, a derogatory term.

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.

Today's the day

Today's the day of the ROM. It is a fine day, where the weather is cool and calm, unlike the the turmoils in my mind. Everyone asks, when's my turn, and yet, what could I have said? When I haven't even figured out who I am?

Many things remain undone, my life stuck between the inchoate and terminating stage. He looked so unchanged, and the other looked so different, and I marvel at the passage of time. Am I a beneficiary or a casualty? Or am I simply the bystander?

I remain far from my goals, or rather, mentally mired but physically pushed along places not of my own choosing.The fact remains; Who am I?

I long for the comfort of my words, my books, my mind. Things change, and that is unsettling.