Saturday, December 13, 2008
This is a story about a boy, about a boy who said that this was somehow his last treat, his last write, his last piece. His swan song if you may. Ironically just 5 months on and the former is disregarded as a moment of folly, a rash decision, the usual season for mistakes if you may.
Yet what you may ask, is so special about tonight that he begins his usual rant, his expression of ways to be yet again, nom de plume?
Fate hits you in a way that you find hard to accept, sometimes hard to explain he says. To him, he thought his life was planned in a way that people could ideally accept and agree with. He was right. It was logical, with all the foreseen blind spots and pitfalls. But yet life had different plans for him when fate hit him with a new status, and a new entry. A re-entry if you may.
Tonight he is at a loss for words. Perhaps that is why I am referring to him as he, a boy, his and what have you. Know this he says. He will write. For reasons that he does not know yet, he will write a lot more than he used to. Perhaps this is a time for change, perhaps things should never have changed but most likely he says, it is a season for change.
Tomorrow he says, for now we sleep.
12/13/2008 04:18:00 AM
