“But even friendship like our heroes'
Exist no more; for we've outgrown
All sentiments and deem men zeroes-
Except of course ourselves alone.
We all take on Napoleon's features,
And millions of our fellow creatures
Are nothing more to us than tools...
Since feelings are for freaks and fools.
Eugene, of course, had keen perceptions
And on the whole despised mankind,
Yet wasn't, like so many, blind;
And since each rule permits exceptions,
He did respect a noble few,
And, cold himself, gave warmth its due.”

― Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin

Over the course of the past 6 months, which I have mostly spent in solitude of the soul and mind, I have begun to form many new perceptions and philosophies that have all become the substance of this great view and grander soul with which I not only see life, but venture through it.

One new way in which I see life in is that when I look at people, I look far deeper than the mere flesh and bone, I dislike just looking at the faces now; faces, like masks, are for nothing but trickery, especially for those who know this and so use it to take advantage of others.
I also highly disapprove of those who do only look at the face, they decide whether someone is good or bad, worthy or unworthy, smart or stupid, based on the complexions of their face; the acne on their cheeks or the scar on their brow.
I see people no longer as people but as souls... Yes, you are a soul, a much grander being and your body is simply the machine with which you experience life, a machine that allows you to experience yourself.  

Sadly, some people have not found out this truth for they are far too lost being the body rather than the soul, they are the ones who have paid no attention to their superconscious, for them the body is all there is and so they give way to excessive *** or ****** pleasure, to drowning themselves in alcohol, to ruining their body with cigarettes and resorting to drugs to fill the void which is left when you pay no attention to your soul. Interesting will be the day when these same people cannot get these pleasures, their moods will be as grey as the autumn skies and their tones bitter and wrathful. If there is still some of that soul left in them then they will cope with living without these things and get used to a new, better, life, free of such chains. If they cannot cope then they will either find or do something worse to make up for it or they will stop at nothing to get that drug, that alcohol, or the feeling of ****** pleasure, some may even commit suicide.  



Now, to expand a little more on the body being a machine to allow you to live and experience yourself; I say this because the body is, in fact, a biological machine run by the greatest, fastest and strongest computer known to us: the brain. I call the body a machine for it, just like any other machine, needs fuel – warmth, food and water, and oxygen. I call the mind a computer for many reason, an easy one to explain would be that it, like any other computer, works with electricity - neurons use both electrical charges and chemicals to communicate with each other.  

This is what you use to create each and every moment, to create each emotion and experience. And it is through our creations which we get to know who we really are.

On a cold starless night,
He'd light three candles warm and bright,
We'd sit around him and he would say:
"What tale shall I tell you today?"

Everyone shouted out their favourite tale
And he'd tell them all in great detail!

He would tell tales of the mermaid's love,
Of the farmer's tears and heavens above,
He'd recite us an epic or two,
and we'd laugh and jest the whole night through.

He'd tell us about long lost loves,
And of bravery and what it behoves,
He'd talk about the seven skies,
And tell us about that mermaid's eyes,
He'd sing about the oceans and rivers and seas,
About wizards and sacred trees!
About fireflies and midnight breeze.

We would all sit around or fall asleep,
And our imaginations would pierce deep
Into the skies or the oceans blue
Until the night sky lost its hue,
And the sun's light peered through.

We all loved him and he loved us too,
but the hands of time always separate you,
So now he's above the seven skies,
and watches over us with big bold eyes,
I hope that I can make him proud,
And fly through this life strong and unbowed.

So that one day, when I'm old and yet hale,
I can tell my grandchildren this very tale,
To tell them of the desert sky,
And the little prince who could fly.

So that in peace I can pass by...

You often visit me at night,
But I've seen you in daytime too,
With the morning petrichor,
With the beat of my heart,
Or at times with certain names,
Names that set my mind aflame,
You come with the smell of music,
Or the taste of certain memories,
And I've always welcomed you with open arms,
But it weighs my soul down...

You are a blessing and a curse,
Without you I'd never appreciate the life I've lived,
However when I am with you,
I am left with tearful eyes and a heavy heart...

Dear nostalgia
Please come at regulated times,
My heart can't break a thousand times a day.