As for my perceived innocence and good-nature, my reckoning and continued involvement in the lives of those who know me are unorthodox, and there is no glory in personal victory with them. Only an unexplained debt to make their lives even the slightest better, even should it mean my leave. My innocence had no holding since high school. My intents in the end aren’t because I truly feel it is the right thing to do, but because I must do it to keep myself as a proper human in this world. I am no optimist. I am a nihilist, a pessimist, and soon to be hermit. My helping is so that one day my hope is renewed in humanity in seeing, helping, teaching raising, or even glancing another that does amazing feats, and has a unwavering conviction in humanity’s redemption across the score of blood, greed, and ignorance. I occasionally see them myself in the few people I speak with. Those are the good people. The innocent and beautiful. They may hold corruption, but it doesn't deter them from being perhaps the greatest livers I have the honor to watch. As for me, it is too late to change into one seen in good light. The next best conclusion is to sacrifice down to the last bone of me, and wish that any and every piece I pull out for another will have more of a use in their hands than in me.

Probably for the same reason you have just mentioned. You change. Each change is different, and yields different ideas and sights to look into. You’re like a living spyglass giving me visions and peers into things I have not seen yet with ever-shifting lens, to put in a strange metaphor. While we may not blog the same things, and even I not blogging things I once used to, and blogging things I never once thought of doing, there’s always a cosmic connection of a sort, I feel. Platonic-ally or romantically, casually or seriously, beautifully or tragicomic-ally, I am not sure of, and where it leads I have no knowledge of either. But to say the least, it’s vastly interesting to stay on this ride, much like witnessing the blooming of a flower. Each stage is different, and when only viewed occasionally, may not make sense to why it’s dying or how it’s still alive. But when taken in as a constant stream, it unfolds details. Not all of them, but more than those who only glance here and there. And while some of the stages not as pretty as others, it’s still the same life of this flower. It still holds the presence and anticipation of how big and bright its petals get, and how much sun it can soak up.In short, I guess like watching lovely people evolve. More so if it’s a positive one, but I’m there for good times and bad times, needed or not, friend or foe. I’m strange, or if one with a kind soul pleases, unique in viewing humans. It pleases me to see people change, yet somehow stay true to themselves. Like flowers in the rain or snow. And that is reason I follow you to this day: watching a beautiful person grow and change, each stage a different gorgeous premonition. In happiness. In sadness. And all the while you still are a flower. Never forget.