LiFe. I don't understand it. How it can seem so immensely huge and I worry that I will never be able to do everything that I want to, knowing that I can never see everything worth seeing, never feel everything worth feeling, never know everyone worth knowing, never love everyone worth loving, and never live every moment worth living. Yet at the same time it feels like the world only goes so far and that if you look at it in a certain light, so barren, lacking in the less concrete things people love oh so much to talk about like love and feeling. And leaves you feeling empty. or maybe not you, but me. You can never really know a person. People lie when they say that characters in books and movies are like real people, they are not. They are one thing or another, with real people, its different. They think they are one way but you may think they are another and it is impossible to say which they really are. In that sense you can never know yourself either. So what can you know? I don't know. It's odd that that the people you have the least to say to are often the ones who you would be willing to tell the most to, the ones from whom you'd hold nothing back from, who you would tell the important secret and trust it to although they may no none of the background about anything else going on in your life. And the ones you love the most, are not always the ones who you choose to be with the most. And the things that make you happiest also seem saddest. The things you want most, the sickest. I was at my friends house this evening, (I don't know how to paste a link), and she was gonna make a time-capsule and I was thinking about what I would put in if I made one. It's just that nothing can ever completely preserve a moment. And whatever you save transfers the feelings into memories. Nothing will ever be the same. It's kind of sad, but i like the freedom in it. You just have to make the most of every moment as it is.