Peripeteia

I always find it difficult to write in this blog. Perhaps I don't want to simply tell you what I'm doing, where I've been, where I'm going. Perhaps I just want my journal to be a bit more personal, something to set it apart from all the other blogs online. No news, no musings (well maybe some), no ideas, no politics. Naturally, at this time or that I fall victim to such posts--such lengthy posts as they turn out to be. (You can't fault me for it... it was a different time back then!) What CDs have I bought? What jobs have I acquired, lost, completed? Ah, but these are all things you could simply ask me in life, and I assuredly would tell you, albeit I would probably riddle my answers with puns and sarcasm and only a sharp mind could glean the true answer from my words. This journal is more of a peek into my mind at a particular point in time, at least that's how I imagine it. Maybe I'm just delusional.

And I always find it difficult to write in this blog. You might wonder why I am writing in it right now, if I don't have anything in particular to write about. Well, it appears I do, as I am typing this entry and, lo, I am already well into the second paragraph. It's like a pebble in the river, being pulled this way and that until finally it gets caught between two large rocks firmly planted in the riverbed. It struggles to overcome these rocks, it wants to continue its journey down the stream hoping for an ocean, or, if not, at least a lake. So as it struggles, the raging rapids tear against the pebble, eating away at its small figure with their lashing tongues. Eventually, the pebble is free again, though smaller, missing information on all sides. It may now enter that ocean, however. The ocean can devour that pebble until it is lost deep within the watery stomach. Was this really worth it after all?

You can unravel the thread, I'll just give you the needle.