and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

I do like somebody these days and I think she knows it but she doesn't know that it's real. She doesn't really get the severity of it - only the severity in the implications. She understands the weight of crushing likeness, she knows what crushes can do because she is a beautiful girl and beautiful girls are often crushed. It's the way the world works. I don't know if that makes the world cruel, for throwing them out there unprotected and wide open like that, or if it makes the world beautiful too but I do know that she is - inside and out - and that's that.

I could - will - wax a bit more about the human spirit. About the human drive to do great things. We are creatures of habit of wealth of motivated spirit but for what, for whom do we toll the bell and ring the phone? Why do we come here? Why do we do these things? We are a species blessed, cursed some might cynically say, with the ability to realize our fears. Most species learn only to recognize their fears and react.. always react. Flight, fight, what have you. We, for better or worse, we realize and process and think about these fears and by doing we learn to deviate from those fears. We learn our fears are unfounded and we learn to reduce and react in more sophisticated ways.

A philosopher would tell you we're advanced. I think I'd say we're just another form of stupid.

I do like a girl an awful lot. Her spirit is moving and sweet and the intentions honest and forthright. She speaks with the intent of truth and the integrity of someone who believes what they say and her smile is bright like the dawn of the day.

And not only is she sweet but she does not intend the pain she inflicts. She does not realize the suffering that is caused by her doubt and fear and does not, at all, mean to hurt, yet she does. The world is a cold place built on principals and theorems and meant for mathematicians, not lovers. The physicists of this earth will understand these things better than I, but I can not blame her nonetheless. She is a creature made for this earth, created on this earth, to die on this earth.. A mere mortal in this world of cold and eternal rock.

There is a truth here, that I am getting at. She will either love me or not. That is the truth. The power of logic. She will fear or she will sidestep that fear. She will doubt, or choose life instead. She will love me for who I am and what I am - a completely lovable and entirely average human, all things considered and weighed and measured - or she will choose not to love me, choosing instead the fear and doubt predicted so concisely in the mathematician's formulas.

These are the things we humans are. Variables so snuggly fit within universal formulas - formulas within formulas, really. Like a polynomial we are capable of effecting greater change than just ourselves if we try, if we use the exponential power given us, or we can be simple constants in system of life.

Every equation has a trivial solution. X can always equal Y or Z can equal zero and the system is balanced like a rock on a table. There are, also, very complex solutions - situations involving imaginary numbers and complex systems of rings and fields..

Life, my friends, was not meant to be solved by setting Z to zero. Life was not meant to be controlled by the fear and the doubt that we conjure so easily inside ourselves for what - for what? - I ask you.. for nothing, for nothing.

But sometimes you pick zero. Sometimes the clock is ticking and you have no more time. Sometimes life is there, at your desk, tapping it's finger telling you your time is up and there is barely time enough to scribble a legible answer and then there you are, fearful and with doubt, hoping desperately hopefully, the eternal hope, that maybe you scored and A.. maybe you got an A-.

Listen folks. Pick the zero. Solve it grammar school style. Life is not affraid to give you a C. Life passes almost everyone. Take the easy way out. Why try harder.. Am I bitter? No. Not yet. But I fear the mathematician's formula too.

I do very much like a girl. She is small and slight but large inside with all the heart of a classroom of first graders. She is as yellow as a field of grain and white as a lake of snow, green as a forest's canopy and blue as the sparkling sky. She fears and doubts and runs about and is human, human, human. That's what I love about her she is human. Flawed and imperfect. Blemished and disenchanted. Hopeful but hesitant, honest but smart. Flawed, always, flawed as only a true human spirit can be.

I, too, am flawed. I am flawed with hope and remorse and cynical realism. I am flawed with guilt and regret and crippled by fear and doubt. I am, if you've guessed it by now, human. I am human, human, human.

I hope she realizes that.