february09,2000-why do we create an image and then create our lives around it. we even begin to believe our image so fully that we can convince our selves of traits within us that may not even truelly exist. we are but the imagination of our selves, and any true ecclectic music lover will know that i ripped that little phrase off from the TOOL Aenima cd, but i don't care....it makes sense. the clothes we buy, the things we do, the ideas we have, and even the jokes we tell. all these things add up to our inner idea of who we are. sometimes i find myself curious as to where this imagination comes from...who creates this thing. is it forged from rebellion, or from the chance to fit in? does it come from the movies we watch and the merchandise thats pushed at us. i don't know what makes me me. how is it that all of these tiny particles and bits of energy converged and continued to grow to became who i am. was it luck? was it meant to be? am i the sum of all history brought to one single pintip point in time? am i bigger then all that lies before me? am i stronger then all the worlds time as it lies upon it's sentiant horizon? i would answer yes only because i am in control of my direction and my distance has found no bounds. back home forward