Who I Am

Who am I?

What does it matter, really?

I'm somebody. I may not be somebody to you because we might be strangers, and have never met. You might not consider strangers to be somebodys. But the funny thing is, that makes me a somebody because you have given me a place in your life as a stranger. The best part about this is that it is better to know what you are, rather than what you're not. And I most certainly am not a nobody.

I like writing. So now I'm going to write a story or two on this blog. Stories that are probably just rants about life. I'm writing the story because I need to, for me. But if you end up reading a part of this story too, and maybe enjoy it a teensy bit, then I can only see this as an added benefit.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Five Syllables.

Once Upon a Time.

Four little words, yet for so many they have opened up worlds of fantasy, of potential, of a future where whatever your dreams are, they can happen. They're possible the most useful writer's block destroyer, because words, for me at least, just stream after like there's no tomorrow.

So, now what? Let's start our story with these words.

Once. Upon. A. Time.

Once upon a time, there was a world with unlimited boundaries, with no difficulty, with no worries. In this world, there was a girl. And she was four years old. Years later she would reflect back upon this time in her life, and wonder how so many things could change in one person's life. How all of a sudden this paradise was lost, and replaced by a paradise of a different variety - where, while things were often good, every once in a while the evil dragon of catastrophe would breathe fire over her universe and turn everything upside down.

It was at times like these that she wished, with every feeling in her body, that she could just go back to when she was four. Things were simpler then, easier. But were they better? She could never know for sure.

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