I feel the need to write. There's so much that needs doing but I feel this need is greater. I write often enough but don't feel the need to put it on here cause I'm scared, of revealing too much, of people I haven't even met, understanding me. But then I thought again and realized there's hardly any danger of that happening, so here I am. I can't write about people or places or stories but I can write about life, but even then I feel this lack of experience in anything I write.
Life is constant in it's fundamentality, simple enough to be so complicated, so the journey can't be anticipated even if the destination can. Somehow I wish all of us can reach our destinations eventually even if most of us don't realize when we've passed them by. There's this static point in everyone's life, like this one dimension where things would be as they should be. Maybe that dimension is a fantasy but I beleive it's not even if means asking for a lot. You reach that static point. Then, you need to stay there. I see so many people give this impression of living, making the best out of life rather than what they want their life to be. I'm not an exception. But if I can make that conversion, it's a step toward this static point.
Damn this helplessness. If you're living only another human being can make a difference and that's the way it should be. There's only so much one can fantasize about. But what about the randomness or does everything have it's place in life? Why can't I have lunch at 1 am without people thinking I'm crazy? What about the things you can't place in life? What about the things you can't force in life? Maybe they have a place in someone else's life. Maybe if I wasn't considered rational and expectations were different then I could have had lunch at 1 in the morning without being considered a loony. But I do, even with the expectations. At best they're a load, at worst a heavier one. But things need to belong as much as people do. I can even talk like you, still you won't understand a word I'm saying.
