In a feeble attemt to regain any peace that she once had, she started to type again. Thinking about nothing and everything. Had she really been to work that night, and talked to the strangest people, and come to all those conclusions? I think so. There wasn't much to say anymore. It had all been said, and was about to be revised and listened to, but all was lost, and turned into a box in the corner of the screen. The issues that were touched were that of a man, acting the part of a child, even though, in all reality, he still was one. But we excellerate the maturing process so much these days. Well, not everyone, but those who see it do. A world were the children hate childhood. Striving to something new. Pushing for the possition of the wise, but posessing no wisdom. He was a child. His eyes were those of a child, wandering and hopeful. Or maybe he had managed to hold onto those feelings and dreams, whereas we have all been raped of those. You won't see these eyes sparkle any longer. But what was he doing? Where was he, and how had he managed to get here? And at the same time I saw in the face next to me something grand. I can't think to explain it now. But I've found that there is somthing that people must do to achieve affectionate reconition in my heart. I can't think of what it is. But tonight I realized it in the eyes of a friend. Eyes that poured out a connection that I recieved and sent back with warmth. So now I see it clearly, and the vail has been lifted, and revealed a clear night sky. I'll make sense later. Now's not the time.