Wednesday, April 16, 2003

I recently found out that I had the power to hurt people. I never realised that I yielded such power.

I find it quite shocking, in some contorted sense, that I have friends -- friends who live and breathe, who love and care.
There was a huge point in my life when I saw the possibility of me being the only thing living on earth -- really living a life. The other people on earth were just pawns and actors used by a greater being to affect my life. Is that egotistical or what? (By saying what, I do mean that as a sincere question; it isn't a mere rhetoric exclamation.)

Sometimes, when I'm talking to Alexander or Janna, it suddenly seems all so out-of-place, as if I have been teleported to another timezone, another life. I think it's because I see myself from out of my body. No, not literally, that would be freaky. It's more of a "let's get a big picture" thing. It may be slightly philosophical, but philosophy stinks, so I shan't use that word too freely. (What I feel is real, philosophy, on the other hand, mostly takes elements out of emotional situations. There hardly is any real application to practical life, not to me at least.)

I'm not quite sure what to think anymore. I'm glad I've chosen not to think that much. I'll probably end up a psychosomatic impractical fool. I used to think excessively and quite needlessly in my early teen years. I recently turned 18. I think I've grown up quite some bit. Thinking a lot doesn't equate maturity, I believe. Maturity is more marked by the ability to control my mind.

No one quite needs to read this. I just need a conduit to express myself. Typing gives me a lovely therapeutic sensation.

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