> Excerpt from a story that was started in October (2008)... It was actually discussed and debated briefly... Given my last month, it feels right to toss it out into the ring and give it a spin...
The protagonist has just returned to his childhood home that has remained empty for 22 months. He realizes that he is missing something that he thought he had, but feels like he left it behind somewhere in 1 of 4 shoe boxes that are (most likely) under the bed he left behind so many years ago. As he walks around the vacant house, he begins to think to himself... Looking up and around at his past, but feeling his future with every step. Something feels different. Slightly different from his last visit, 3 weeks ago. He decides to go outside to the backyard. It's where he always felt safe. Then he started to talk...
To start from the bottom and to begin the process of building something from nothing... In reality, that nothing is actually something that's always been there, just in different forms. It was there then, it's there now. It's here. Now. Talking about life. Talking about facts. Uncovering the moment when something changed. Choices. The choices between the supposed change and the choices we all make to get by, but not necessarily to live by... What do you live by? Who do you live by? What rules? Who plays what role? Who's keeping score? Who blows the whistle? Who rings the bell to signal the beginning or the end? Who, besides you, can protect your soul? Anyone there? Who's watching? What keeps your soul up at night? Some time ago, I learned a few things about life. Life is worth living... I learned that the minute and day I was born was the day I started to die. The process began... My one shot to make my mark, my difference to the world. To be me, myself, I... To take everything and hold onto it with the whole of my heart. And all that my heart has to offer... Not many around to accept it, but plenty around to poke at it all and assume what could never be assumed... I see someone with a soul when I look in the mirror. Who do you see when you see me? Who do you see when you look at yourself? Who is it that you say your prayers for? Are they around to know? Are they listening? Do they care? The games we play... The goals we achieve, the smiles we make and the smiles we hide... The weight we wear on our shoulders. The joy we feel. The moments we create... The joy we make. What are the things that matter most? Have you ever been proud of a mistake you've made? Was it even a mistake? Is celebrating a mistake any different from celebrating a victory? Daring to live, living to dream, waiting for the next eclipse to come and do it all over again... To start it all over again. To make us look up all over again...
bsm*
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