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Archives 2003-10-13 - 1:07 a.m.


And there is so much more to say, but the box I made for my diary is much too small. I don't like to be long winded anyway, energies are always best saved not for purposes of boring other people.

I like to keep things simple in my life. At anytime when a complex situation would present itself, I will break it down to it's most basic elements, and decipher each and every one on it's own. If I cannot do it, I tend to avoid it altogether, simply because I cannot be bothered.

But there is something genuine in that last entry of mine. Something which I am at a loss to explain. Perhaps I am driven to distraction by the things I hate about myself, as I never bothered to be interested about what other people think about me.

Yet here I am, listening to my father speak, for the first time ever. Ever, in my entire life, have we had a conversation more than 90 seconds long, for as long as I remember.

And there is much I do remember. But in the span of three hours, we have made up in lost time that would have spanned the better part of the last three decades. And it all started when he tried to teach me, of all things, how to play blackjack properly.

I, the sinner, taught to sin properly, so I can learn about the absolute truths about my past. It is so hard to explain, but what I saw tonight was not a card trick or a miracle, just an awe inspiring display of parallel thinking.

Parallel, as in things do exist on the other side...

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