Tonight I mourned.

As that thought registered in my head, I realised how seeing-the-glass-half-empty of me it was to think of the acquiring of new knowledge as the loss of somethings else. I say somethings because it is not of yourself persay, but of truths that you held to before.

I had been waiting for Tonight for a while. The room was silent, and I had prepared for it. Funny how such an insignificant thing needs preparing for. Then again, it wasn't insignificant to me. (I shouldn't need to explain this to myself, but yet, I do.)

I sat and I absorbed,
I Learned, I was surprised.
I Craved more, I had to Stop.

I hurt at parts, cringed at parts,
I silently questioned
all the while knowing Questions never vocalised will never be answered.

I worried.
I pondered.
Past experience has always led me to the conclusion that I am vulnerable to the unconscious change of not only time and place, but more worryingly so, people; like play dough to the hands of self-prophesized crafters, I find myself caressed and touched and ultimately altered as I go through.

Self-centeredness has always led me to the conclusion that I am the only person too unsteady and perhaps weak in certain respects to allow it to happen. (Ahh, but why unsteady? But why weak? Maybe only the strong in heart admit to weakness.) The prospect that I am not, but may in fact be acting puppeteer by playing a role in the metamorphosis of others has got me feeling indescribably uneasy.



Everyone wants to aid change only for the better, but what happens when your aid is disabling?

Only time will tell.