Ode to Joy, its what
they call the song. It
was a poem to begin
with and Beethoven put it
to music. Of all the
works of all of man,
all the art in all
the world, Ode to Joy
is the pinnacle of human
creation. “All men will become
brothers Under thy gentle wing.”

Winters are rough for us.
It was a cold January when we said goodbye.
She wanted to see a movie the other night.
Into the Wild seems oddly appropriate.
It was a cold November when we said goodbye.
I still owe her a dinner.
Maybe sushi, sushi is always good.
Winters are rough for us.

If the sum of the
squares of the digits after
successive iterations leave you with
one its, if math is
to be believed, happy. At
the end of the day
any number other than one
is not happy. However, in
a world dedicated to duality,
a binary world if you
will, all is happy, maybe.

Moral George thought himself to be a moral man.
He knows the boundaries of right and wrong.
He knows how to help the other.
He knows how not to hurt her.
He just doesn’t know how to make himself do the good.
He hates himself for hurting her
in the past, present and the future.

Times where good and times were bad. Always she dulled the
senses. The fire and ash hid her fears. The fire and
ash dulled the dreadful pains. The fire and ash crushed the
joys with equal fury. The fire and ash created someone else
unable to feel the pain, unable to feel the human [...]