How many times has the surge come, ravaging and quick it blazes into the present, astounding everyone, confusing them into pride and boasting. With the wave of new interest comes responsibility that not half, not three fifths, nor even ninety-nine percent of the world can bear alone, yet few come forward to shoulder their mass, and instead these neglected necessities breed reasons for human misery, and again and again signal the coming of an end.
But it is never total. The completed deed is never truly complete. Whether some are spared, or all destroyed yet in the future they live again, this universe cannot find the heart to end anything, good or bad. Repetition is the answer.
Pull back and you see the end. Step back once more to see it start up again, or a mirror of an example just before the present's start. It is both: all and none. It is dream and other.
On Xmas of 1992 my brother gave me this journal made of recycled paper with a twig pencil. I eventually filled it up sporadically up to 1995. I dug it out, dusted it off, and started looking through it today, May 6th, 2013. I've decided to reproduce the posts online. It's raw and sure to be embarrassing, but I feel enough time has passed that I can distance myself, yet find a very familiar me within these lines and perhaps find the inspiration to take up the pen again..... Thanks, big Bro.
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