When I was younger, about 15, I kept a black marble journal filled with my own philosophical musings. Once I had a friend write a response in it, but mostly I worked through ideas with private words. It begins with the question of whether there is a right answer for everything, if there is such a thing as the right way to go about change, the ultimate solution. If there is some decision, some right choice that would end the war, that would fix the fight, that would feed the poor forever. A right choice that only G-d can know, until someone chooses it. I think I came up with some contradictory answer, about circumstances, after many, many pages. Looking back, it wasn’t really the answer that mattered. Now, I wonder about this question, but changed;
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