Thus shall ye think of all this fleeting world: A star at dawn, a bubble in a stream; A flash of lightning in a summer cloud, A flickering lamp, a phantom, and a dream. --The Diamond Sutra

A benign part of me, in the meantime.

Really seeing double lately with my slightly degenerating pair; squash-deficient as my friend teased me; Now, I need extra effort to wake up earlier to save a front-row seat (My narcoleptic tendencies in class betray me though; Caffeine is of no help for me anymore). How's life from this angle? Much plainer and peaceful, I may say, aside from the infrequent rushes of systemic adjustments like that of withdrawal symptoms of the nicotine-dependent-suicidal-combustors (ehemm.. lightning shots for some)though not manifesting spasmodic episodes. Thirsty for past inklings yet hypothalamicly absolute about the present universe I chose - which consists of thick books and eyebugs.
I am planted on one spot and I know where to go - towards the light I crawl and to where aerobic organisms dwell.
Apparently, there are better harvests with each energy burnt moreso, the efficiency with which results are reaped not only through paper scores but through my positive maturity as a human being, compassion would just be one to note. Still with an open-mind I accept and would accept these inevitable critisisms (like it's a twin of life that we must live with)with apt sensitivity and unshown appreciation for the genuine intentions of such by such.
As for a relative backdrop: The real issue I say is about my behind-the-scene tolerance. I suppose it didn't benefit me to be onion skinned; shocked by realities of human nature to which scope I thought exists only in fiction books; shocked as well by my threshold to the manifestations I bumped with -It's partly my fault for being a dignified lover of the art... and not of showmanship I say, humbly and resolved.
Nevertheless, music would be an untamed fire within me and once I'm ready to ignite myself once more, it'd be for an unpretentious cause one of which I myself conceived. Politics, I believe, is my weakest department and I've seen enough monkies to destroy my apetite. This mind rest is a prophylactic therapy if I consider it that way.