just minishorts.

She's here to tell you its actually a rampage with a purpose of seeking solid ground.

But you won't understand. No matter how much I try to put it out, no one will understand… I can throw bits and pieces here, drop a little shred over there, even on purpose, but all you can do is speculate. You can try to fix up the puzzle, this puzzle, but she's promising you that you won't ever be able to find the vital pieces necessary to complete the puzzle. At the end of the day you might just be able to comprehend something, but she can tell you that it won't amount to over 60%.

So why bother?

Why yes, yes, she posts, day in, day out, when times are good, she posts too, but its not day in, day out, not so religious at all… so now that its day in, day out, there's whispers, there's puzzled looks on your faces as you try to decipher, 'Why now? Why here? Why him? Why her? Why them?'

She did, she sought, and the truth was slow to enter her mind, puzzled by an inquiry that at every moment was complicated by events which, at first sight, might be looked upon as superhuman; and more than once she was within an ace of abandoning a task in which she was exhausting herself in the hopeless pursuit of a vain image. At last, she received the proof that her presentiments had not deceived her, and she was rewarded for all her efforts on the day when she acquired the certainty that the shadow was a mere shade.**

It was dark, sometimes demonic, usually brooding in its erruptive temperaments. Like a phantom that runs in and out between hidden passages within a Parisian opera house, she knew it was there, but not there. She knew because its presence was usually betrayed by the sudden flickers of light that it brushed as it swept the lost and broken stairways that connected the 2500 doors within the building. She knew because she could hear the voices, feel the eyes upon her, feel the pain that it unconsciously emitted and poured upon her. Lost, for it could never see the daylight, so it had to create illusions of light for itself.

She thought she was compassionate, she wanted to provide the light you see…, but those were merely my imaginings, things brought about by an exquisite want to know and to give… yet it was nothing more than that, a want that turned into an offer of given up pride, an offer that was rejected, pushed away. That's why its baffling, but there's really no choice but to take things as they are, isn't there?

But you see, its not about the time, its not about the people. These, these words, these spluttered outbreaks, they have a meaning for the world. They're like an effort to seek reiki?do you know it? Reiki.

At the end of the day, if you do not understand, its because its deliberate, and not made for you to understand.

**Some lines here taken from that book by Gaston Leroux.