Sunday, 03/03/02 - 10:10 pm.
Well, things change and not everything gets back to its original state.
My brother Carlos moved out tonight. He must be at his new home right now, with his lovely girlfriend. I just hope he doesn't get her pregnant. Other than that, I'm so happy for them, yet I'll miss my brother so fucking much *tear in left eye*. My sister, too...I mean, she too moved out. Obviously, she took her child with her. Funny things of life, they both left at the same time, after dinner was over. Mom cried. I suppose you've got two eyes so you can shed tears of happinness with one and tears of sadness with the other one.
That sounded very crappy.
I have to call up my sister at 5:30 am tomorrow, to wake her up. Cheers.
I was thinking that not only you die because of aesthetics, but because as you get older, everything changes too much to be understood. The more you learn, the less you know, y'know? Besides, you can't understand changes and by the time you're old, you diss the young ones and their tastes and fashion. You don't even want to hear about it and you're just uncomfortable with it all.
So you die for 3 reasons: aesthetics and evolution (ok, that's two but the last one includes two, I still don't know how to put it). You don't die to make others appreciate life. Maybe in the beggining they do, but it's more about complaning and asking life, nature and God why they took away such a precious life.
So...there. That's why we die.
Life and death shouldn't be apart. You don't go saying "birth and life", because it's the same thing. So it happens with death, it's part of life. Only it's tough to accept it, I know. It's the yin-yang. Birth and death. Heaven and Hell. Aerosmith and the Rolling Stones. Now, if I could only find out why we are born....I....I....I'd find out why.
I tried to call The Guy and he wasn't home, and I assume no one in his family was. It seriously sucks to be him.
I wanted to start a project tonight. I don't know about what, so I'll probably just go to bed.
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming
And the lamp - light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
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