By no means are these feelings worthy of a post, if only because they are nothing new, and are likely to recur as long as I continue to live like this. Amongst people who know you, one feels the wistful reflection to the past has not always been misguided. A little bit of you lives on in people's memories, and that reciprocation seems so wonderful to a troubled mind. There is strength derived from seeing other lives, there is a stronger conviction in onesself. Not that that means one wants to put any of this to use. Much better to be immersed in this environment for longer; not use it as a remedy, but use it as reality. Because at the end of it all, how to put it better than: I really would not like to go.