Just when I think I have it figured out I'm tapped on the wrong shoulder and left spinning for hours looking for something just out of my sights. I thought I had a good friend, no actually he may be my best friend, figured out but he has changed. Almost so much that the only way I know him from a stranger is that a stranger couldn't look me in the eyes and know what I was thinking the way he can. It isn't really that he characterally (is that a word, mnh) has changed, just outwardly. He looks different in every way but the one that counts the most. When I look in his eyes. Eyes are the windows to the soul, babies, and it is the same soul I've always known. Maybe this is supposed to teach me a lesson, such as just because the covers changed doesn't mean it isn't the same book you've read a million times. Perhaps it is I that am exceedingly static. The rock of Gibralter if you will. Except that I can't say that I don't change. It is just not as noticable. Also, the rock of Gibralter is strong and in a strength contest I'd be the wood with the rotting core. I appear as if strength is my speciality but infact the smallest touch will collapse me.