Jenny-fa

Some rather unpleasant things happened yesterday. The unwelcome "blast from the past" and potential to emotionally scar notwithstanding, I think I've come to realize several things:

• There is no happiness and significance and grand purpose to life, no matter how many bastards tell you otherwise.
• Situations where I can survey the whole, contemplate individual beauties, and be apart from the clamor are scarce and not so spectacular.
• And even when I'm up there, in the cold and rain and beyond the pathetic, mundane realm, all I can think of afterwards is that I should've stayed up there longer.

OK, that was a rough list. Watch out, I think this one's even better.

• I've died and become a part of nothing. What is this "person"? Who was that moron? How can other people look at photographs, memories, each other, and identify?
• Fiction. Can it touch you with a sensate hand and tell you what where you've been, what you've missed, what is missing?
• A nascent or lasting reality? These figments of imagination…
• I have a feeling my "past" will keep severing itself.

Also, some "people" have told me that I'm an unpleasant "person." Which leads me to…

• If smiles and laughs and human expressions can't be genuine, then will they castigate "me" for it?
• Why does society viciously ostracize those they can't comprehend?
• Why does no one see? Understand?
• And not "my" trivial plights but those of the common nature.

Could you see a drop of water in a rainstorm?

The rest is silence.