I wish I could believe in a better life, or a hope for the future, but it's just so hard to live with all the wounds that will never heal. There are things that have happened to me that will never recover or go away, and there are things that I need to have happen that never have and never will. I wish I could believe that the hope I seek is perhaps beyond death, but going year after year without ever being able to find someone who could prove they came back from the dead... it's not that hard I mean. I'll ask about a secret only you and I share, and you'll be able to answer it.
It's not the possibility I need though, I don't neet that hope against hope that there is something beyond what we can measure and predict with reasonable accuracy. What I need is the... the knowledge that what I need is there in the distance; I know where it is and how to work towards it. I don't know where to start! Feedback, evidence, whatever you want to call it, that's what I need. I just need some sign, some phenomenon that I can't explain with my petty little equations of thermodynamics and entropy. Something I can understand and reproduce, but that changes the rules by which things work.
Sure you can speculate that at a billion trillion degrees with a density of a quajillion, Newton's laws won't exactly be accurate, but why are they always accurate in 99% of all situations? We're trapped, and one wall of the cage we've discovered with science, but we won't admit it. We've discovered that once you observe a general principle, only the barest fringe cases are going to be exceptions, and those will have their principles and their fringe cases and so on. It quickly reaches the point of ridiculousness, where we literally can't discover anything except in the realm of that which is too difficult to ever reproduce.
Gods I'm babbling again. It's just I found a friend and he's the nicest person this side of Duluth, and he's really sweet and a great story writer and... and I just... the way he treats me reminds me of what I am inside, reaches that truth that I try to deny because it hurts so much. I don't hate the way I am on the outside, don't loathe my body or resent my problems. It's a nice body, it's just not me... I'm not me... and I can't figure out how to tell him that without another little death in my soul. I know he can take it, but I don't know if I can.
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