Tuesday, April 10, 2007
It is not an impulsive change, like I woke up a different, or suddenly felt magnificent and lapped the morning dew.
No no no.
It has taken forever.
It is more subtle than that; but there is a bound and a spring in my pace today. Perhaps it's all those Easter bunnies, maybe it's just all chocolate. Life has literally begun: I have a new second cousin, she will have a name, and I will spoil her rotten. Perhaps it's because I sort of get it: I have the world on a stick and string, one little salsa step away, and I have a new and unusual friend who has put up with a surprising amount of hot air these last few months, but I do love her to bits, and that has been well said. Enough.
I left everything behind looking for new beginnings, but found a world so alien, so unrecognisable from my own that I truly staggered for a little, all that ebb and flow, so much to learn from the unpitying curve; and today it is not over, today is not born again, a monument to the new, for that is for fools and fiction. It is just another day, but it is a day where all the oddities, all this off-world landscape begins to look more like a place I know, it is the start of what was, in a place that was not, it is a good day, maybe the very best of days.
And I am home.
There is Life on Mars after all,
Who would ever, ever have thought that?
|Previous Entry||Home||Next Entry|
Fiction plucks from within us our deepest fears and hopes then shows them to us in rough disguise: the monster and the rocket.
When you understand that what you're telling is just a story. It isn't happening anymore. When you realise the story you're telling is just words, when you can just crumble it up and throw your past in the trashcan, then we'll figure out who you're going to be.
Add text or HTML here