i don't know if this is where i want to be anymore. i'm not one to complain but somehow, this isn't quite what i imagined things to be. sure. life is uncertain, and the things we ask or work hard for don't really turn out to what we thought they would be in the end. but isn't it a bit unfair to want and need something so badly and realize somewhere in the middle of it all, that what we have is really nothing compared to what we hope for? if only the degree to which we need and want is proportional to the veracity of what we attain sooner or later, then i guess i would find some comfort and satisfaction.
everything is susceptible to doubt. then again, everything is susceptible to anything. ideals can be corrupted. minds can be influenced. words can be twisted. a friend can easily turn into a foe. and serenity it seems can quickly (and decisively mind you..) turn into melancholy. change. the only thing that is certain in a world of uncertainty. always a transition. always moving. never in a standstill. an eternal alacrity of nanoseconds whose transitions fuel human emotion in a vicious cycle. love to denial. denial which shifts to despair. despair into a consuming hatred. hate which transmutes into numbness. insentience which gives way to forgetfulness over time. and all it takes is but a single, obtrusive memory.. a familiar sound, a lingering smell, to fall in love all over again. to the very object which caused you to deny, despair, hate, debilitate and finally forget. to love once again the same object with the same ferocious intensity. every time as if it were the first time.
life's prejudice lies in its preference to recollection even when the matter calls for abstraction.