The following is a copy of an entry of thoughts I recently wrote down on a piece of paper:

Saturday, August 30th, 2003

I don't like the machine that moves me. I don't like it cause it feeds off me and it hurts the world.

Everything that is unfair, that is unjust, I want to end.

And for the longest time, I believed (perhaps I have been conditioned to believe) that in order to change things, I must first be part of that which I want to change. I must integrate myself into the vital gears of the machine in order to successfully and effectively change it.

But I wonder now whether this is the machine's greatest defense mechanism. For it is true that although the strongest gear affects most powerfully all of the machine's workings, the same gear is simultaneously most affected by the workings of the machine. How can I stop something by becoming the organ that ultimately is made to perpetuate and fuel that thing I wish to end. I cannot become the Sun in hopes to extinguish myself for my nature is to shine.

So what now? Must I destroy the machine by standing outside of it? An anarchist? Would not a revolution cause more pain and suffering? That is not what I want.

Here I am given two choices. Option #1: to conform in hope (and in risk) that I am not only able to break the chains that shackle me but to free the world of them as well. Or Option #2: to force rather than convince the world to end this insane crusade of suffering, by destroying the foundations of which I, myself, stand to live on.

Before I do anything else, I must choose. For if I do not commit myself fully to either one of these choices, I'll be already lost in the labyrinth of motion of the machine that needs to be stopped.