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The Twenty Eighth of May

Welcome to the world. Much of the direction and theme of a written composition is determined by its first couple of lines, and I shall do my best to screw up this particular piece of forced write-up, just like the countless others that have preceded it. Change is what we secretly desire, but change also is the thing we dread the most. The world is a (seemingly) haphazard assortment of spring – mass systems, in seemingly unstable equilibrium, equilibrium because it has inertia and unstable as it has springiness too. The paradox about change is only too well known, but almost never appropriately documented, which perfectly complies with the paradox of change itself. The world can sometimes seem to be standing still, constant and unmoving, almost agonizingly so, the next moment, another facet of the same subject would display mutating volatility, making you doubt your premises and ultimately doubt the world around you, you being the pivot of it, the tool for its cause and the recipient of...