Back in '02

I tried looking unsuccessfully through my old blogs looking for a post I did about the sandbox, but found nothing of that sort. Strange. I remember blogging about it.

I did find this though, written in feb 2002. No idea why I wrote all in small caps.

throughout our lives, we establish certain theories on how to live our life, on the quirks of humankind. we come to sudden realisations on facts of life and we learn through experiences that shatter our hearts and tear at our soul. we've been in moments when we want the world to just pause, stop and never move on. when we're holding someone we love close to our bosom, when we're lying warm in the arms of our loved ones. time spent lying on lush green grass, watching the clouds move slowly by, accompanied but the sound of waves crashing against the shore. the scene flashes by, giving way to a picture of a square cubicle, where a person toils unceasingly for the better part of each day, just so that he can survive, feed and clothe himself and his family. his life lacks both splendor and warmth, relationships turn cold, yet he presses on, a lifeless, unthinking machine, working to survive. the varities are endless, from one extreme to another, the thoughts of man perverse and twisted, yet at times illogically kind and warm. there are among us, people who step out of the mundane, secular circle of life. poets, philosophers, religious leaders. different that they are, yet bound by one common element. the unwillingness to live life just as it is, instead searching with their limited mortal mind the deeper meaning of life. on the other side of the coin, we have individuals choosing to live life to the fullest, ignoring the mystical and the obscure, scorning the superstitious. they believe only in their own ability and power:"fate? what fate? things are within my control".

hidden in-between the extremists, among the many others, is the dreamer. lamenting the debauched ways of the world, skeptical of any existance or display of good in the world, yelling and condemning do-gooders to be hypocrites and having some hidden agenda, he himself doing nothing for the needy and helpless. the dreamer sits on his bum, too overcome with indolence to work, yet eager to rise and take arms, protesting against deforestations, killing of creatures, insects and worms.