I've begun to think of life as a bit of a joke. Now that I'm technically 23, and quickly approaching quarter of a century of existence in this world. I wonder how long do I have left, and I think its strange that when you tell people you're 23, they'll say, "That's great! You've young and at the peak of your life!"

I think, "Uhuh, and this peak will just zoom past you, by the time it's long gone, you're probably wheezing and coughing at the age of 75 and you'll wonder about what had happened when you were still young!"

Like for instance, now, isn't it natural for me to look back on those years (however few they were really) and say, "Hello, what happened?"

They just speed past you and when the wind has done its job, all that remains are dust and scattered remnants of what could have been.

Crap. Now that life is a joke in this sense, why should I be so worrisome and sorrowful. He'll probably be thinking about the very same thing, or at least, he had thought of it before. The point is, there's really nothing for me to regret because the decision was his, not mine. If there should be any regrets, its only his.

And me? Oh well, like I've told many of you, I shall go on. No harm in it... since there's nothing better for me to do.   ¶ 20:19