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A secret, magic place from this time last year.

Maybe, if I just start writing, a blog post will form.

*crickets*

Maybe, if I keep writing, the maelstrom of thoughts circling my brain will flood out onto this digital page and reassemble into stunning, wordy, brilliance.

*sound of the ceiling fan*

Maybe, one day, all of the starts and stops of pages languishing on my desktop in files labeled “SCREENPLAYS” and “DAILY SHIZ” and “GOOD STORY IDEAS” will find their way towards each other and combine into what one would call a book with actual paper pages hard-bound into physical proof that I have documented the random imaginings of my brain.

*tinny music of the ice cream truck coming down the street*

Maybe, one fine day, it will be my turn for books and marriage and a life that resembles SOMETHING the way it was imagined twenty years ago. The juvenile imaginings of how I thought my life would be today has made this present landscape foreign and unfamiliar. Where am I? Where is the sextant? The map? The ship’s Captain? The compass? A navigation system – even one with an annoying voice commanding me to  TURN LEFT HERE or TURN RIGHT THERE – would be welcome.

*sounds of a raucous flock of finches taking over a small oak tree*

Maybe, my closest friends will get their hearts’ desire given to them to remind us all that those desires are not for naught; your wish, your dream, your most cherished hope, is granted after so many years of taking on the quest, a-la Frodo and the Ring. At the fiery edge of Mount Doom, we let go of our most Precious and emerge into a new world of gracious Kings who rule with heart and grant our wishes.

*sounds of a swift breeze rushing through the backyard stand of bamboo*

Maybe, one day, I will write a post that doesn’t take on a melancholy tone as it nears the end.

*The cheers of a billion people are heard around the world*

Until then, I will keep filling the Folders with Screenplays and Daily Shiz, and snippets of pages of wordy stuff pretending to be something they’re not. Maybe.

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