How do we meet (when we meet at all)? I am probably not guilty until proven completely useless. Yet, I am lacking more than I am comfortable with. And even though I had predicted this would become better, in fact, the opposite happened.

What is there to learn? It seems like a burden to discuss.

If I was a sculptor—but then again, no…

I can show what I have got, but do I need to collect something first? If I give away, what’s there left to share?

I am not certain that all these options are really for real; the clock is ticking, and I am fooling myself. I am not even certain I can finish the next lunch.

I heard some criticism, but do I need to defend myself? Why should I care about others’ choices, and why do they care about mine if they are unaffected? Is it a game worth playing? I guess not.

Most of freedom and of pleasure: Nothing ever lasts forever.

I could argue that I could share and explain things without being asked. But that appears dull unless I provide novelties and oddities. Is that ever sufficient?

I am often not convinced myself, so trying to use persuasion appears like a silly misdirection I prefer over sustaining in the unknown. No, it is not always fun. But it is the best I can do.

‘Cause I’m a picker, I’m a grinner, I’m a lover and I’m a sinner.

It happens that questions arise, and honestly, when someone is in danger or under other terrible conditions, I should quickly see how my limited skills might improve the situation.

However, as I rarely listen, it is not correct to assume this in general from those I encounter. It happens, sure, but I do not have any guarantee.

Is this time wasted? When I am not busy explaining stuff to myself, I should maybe consider reducing that anyway.

I can’t do that for anyone. But I think there is a chance I can do it for myself. And everyone might also have that chance. I like to believe that, and sometimes we could perhaps remind each other.

You are always welcome.