Everything which is human is alien to me.

I still don't know if things fit together, or if everything will be all right in the end. But I believe that something means something. I believe in cleansing the soul through fun and games. I also believe in love. And I have several good friends, and just one bad one.

I don't want all that much. But I want to be fine. I want to live a simple life with many good moments and a lot of fun.

I have enough trouble with useful information, never mind being burdened with what is useless.

I have the strangest thoughts in my head, maybe I should not write them down.

There are too many confusing things present. Things I know. Thoughts I have. Sarcasm. Things I think I ought to be doing and places I ought to be going. Always other places.

...the total number of galaxies in the universe seems to be in the region of ten billion, and that each of them has about a hundred billion stars the size of the sun. These numbers are so absurd that I strangely find myself in a good mood. It's all so immense. I think Paul feels a bit like this as well. There is so little I can do to make a difference. It is liberating.