2/2/08 01:52 pm

A quarter of a century old in a quarter of year.

The scenic view in the valley is least conforming—only with replies of the single question till it disappeared in a distorted voice. Just like the worst thing that can happen is to suffer in silence and ignorance. The heart and the mind waiting to reach each other on the shoulders without warning.

The cynic old dog with a strange 'face' throughout the talk had his tail under his balls. The lost herd being pushed around in the circus tent. The leader should have his head severed for his master. It has to be heard.

The faceless companion on the other track only waiting to be met at the converging point. To be felt by a common and regular sense to make things seem normal. The uncanny is not a shared perception. The translations are unique and at risk under the regular category of insanity. The expressions, the stories and all these words are in the labyrinth of its own formulation—by more words for description until it goes back in to the limited cycle of letters in a spherical universe. The form of language for communication to drive away solitude; talking to yourself is generally considered 'mad'. Why must everything be understood when nature itself is complex to begin with; and miracles are unexplainable except that it just happens when it happens.

The sweetest fruit grows out of reach to anyone just an inch too far below and the neighbors always have a better view; but isn't the beauty in the rarity and uncommon?

I'd hid myself in the other side for as long as I could. Pulled my blanket over and—voila. Had the cell switched off and missed a call only to be received in the recording machine. She told me of the strange things that had happened and the adventures she popped into. A brand new best friend who she can never recall an outlook except only remembered as the other. The places she went on the trains that stopped at stations with the strangest names in all those familiar situations. Always asking for directions on the map but she can never hear anything nor remember the temperature of the surroundings. The only thing she can feel is her brand new best friend next to her; the touch and her pounding heart. It was a short message and she hang up abruptly. The last thing she said was that she couldn't remember where they were hiding behind a maroon hundred year old tree trunk...