I read an old log today. 3 years old to be exact. It was obviously a conversation between two people who no longer exicst. Curiously one carried the same name as I. But what he said seemed so naive; like a child waiting for the world to become just as he expected. Furthermore he seemed unable to pick up those little, vague hints that would have made his life less miserable. I could but pity him and hope that he'd learn from his mistakes, both past and present, so that when he realized his wrongs and missteps, he would be able to set things right. But then again, who am I to know?
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