15 May, 2006

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."

I was sitting here at home, thinking about how things are going, trying to figure out why I'm feeling down despite all the good things that are happening in my life, and this quote just kept running through my head.

I suppose, inevitably, this is what lead me to actually start a blog finally. You see, when I started thinking about this, what it meant, why it was sticking in my head, I sat down here at my computer, opened up Notepad, and just started writing. I let my thoughts pour out onto the screen and just ... let it happen.

This makes my first post a bit of a somber one, perhaps even melodramatic. But here are the contents of what I wrote out. I'm sure it's rampant with errors, both grammatical and spelling ... but I don't care too much really. It's just thoughts. And please do pardon the 3rd person narrative. It's just how I was feeling at the time. Don't ask me, I don't claim to know how my own brain works.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."
Those words alone, kept ringing through his head. Things were really starting to look up. Life was finally heading on the right track. Job prospects were better than ever. He was on the verge of bringing home a salary higher than he had ever imagined; higher than any family members had ever seen.

So why this feeling? This feeling of dread, of foreboding.

He was finally living in a nice house, with roommates he liked. Hell, they were his best friends. That he was renting didn't really matter at all. The landlord was one of the best anybody could ask for.

Yet still, things were not right. His mood was not improving.

His friends are moving away now. Where are they going? Back home... but to what? Desolation? The only thing remaining in his mind of home is a grey fog. Home is long gone. Home is a memory left best forgotten. Home is dying, drowning, in its own self defeat.

How can he let them go back to that, with all that they have here? He brought them out of that grey fog, helped them find a life anew, in paradise. He brought them here when they had next to nothing, brought them into a real life, full of opportunities and wonders. Why oh why should they want to go back to that fog, to the desolation and decay?

But yet, how can he stop them? It is their choice. It is their own lives. What choice does he have in how they live? All he can do is spread his influence and hope that, in the end, they make the right decision. The decision that will make them the happiest, take them the furthest in life. That's all he can really do. After all, what more can be expected of him?

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