As much as I don't believe in fate, it seems as though it's increasingly hard to deny that there seems to be an untouchable spool of wire that our lives dance around and adhere to. Over and over again, familiar experiences pop into view with different heads attached to them. Perhaps this is the key to happiness and warmth among others, is perfecting the monotony. But what sort of life is this?

In the middle of this entry, I received a call, a hand ripping open the sky and extending a rope downwards, for which I have been instructed to climb