Nice! Great essayist. You just never lose your "whatever" style. I like it. Honestly to speak, I quite agree with your view points about life, and I know well about your inner conflicts and agonies between seemlingly cruel reality and your pure, innocent heart. But there is still something you don't figure out, or, let me put it this way, something neither you nor I could accept, especially when I was at your age.
If life is a fucking game, then who do you think you would be? A chess master who commands the whole battle? No, you will certainly lose in the end.
Then where is the king? You will never see the target when you ever had a litte eagerness to want to take control over it.
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Oh, Lord, help me to make myself more understood about what You inspire me.
Set me in the right groove You've been planning for me.
And remind me in time when I would jump out of it.
Diverities are attractive for I never know
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To imitate someone after his or her outfit or manner is great fun. On the other hand, it shows one's identification to another's viewpoints or styles. It allows the one who mocks others to feel in others' ways of thinking, trying to express oneself through another's interpretation. Unlike many others, I like others to copy me,too, no matter whether the way of talking, thinking or even the things I have done. I see this, quite the oppisite, as a great respect to me and I feel honored. And I will do this also to show someone my highly appretiation for I fairly agree with what he or she has done. So, why not being a copy cat? 
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A very famous German writer Eric Kestner once took a long trip with his company on a train. Because of a tedious and tiring ride, his friend fell into a sleep. In the meanwhile, he suddenly jumped off and shouted, "Oh, I forgot to taking my sleeping pills." He took out the pills from the luggage, taking some of them, and went back to his sleep again.
--- People in change, habits though on stage ---
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Around 1894, there was a gardener named Bob. In addition to going to church every Sunday, he often prayed for others to God intently and was willing to obey what God had told him. He faithfully carried out his task and served his master for over 40 years. He loved to take care of plants, growing them, watering their fresh buds and shoots, and gloating them ripen in the tree shades. He spared little time staying with his own family and always focus on taking care of his master, patiently and uncomplainingly. Indeed, he was from head to toe an ordinary family man but an excellent, loyal and God-loving servant.
One day, the old gardener worrily hurried to his master, Geld, who was the richest landlord and merchant in the town near London. He panted, "Something wrong will be happening, my dear lord"
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