Bookmark #808

I wonder what portrait these words will paint of me when they are read in one go, considering that it spans several years from the first piece to wherever I stop (if I stop). And this is not some want for assurance. There is no fallow, no dearth of assurance in my life. I am as steadfast, as surefooted as they come. At least, when it comes to knowing myself; it is other people and their intentions I doubt at all times, always—not to say I have gross mistrust for the world, only that I am cautious as one should be. To look at the world and see its potential is noble, but to see the world as it appears is correct. In my experience, for how things transpire, it pays far more to be correct than to be noble. Noble expectations only make your heart writhe in pain because they are rarely delivered on. To be clear, however, this is not an argument to not have them, only to temper them. We must all look at the world with the same measure of potential a devoted parent sees in their child as they take their first step. But we must also be wary, as the parent is, that the child may stumble still. But to return to what began this thought, which seems to have lost its way like a puppy who does not recognise its home yet: what picture do these pieces—all eight hundred or so—paint? I could never answer it, but I hope they paint a colourful one. The mood it invokes is not up to me, but I hope it is brilliant, vivid, and bleeds of colour. I hope that is the case.

The other day, I bought a red jumper to the shock and awe of most people I know or, at least, who happened to see me in it. This sudden onset monsoon of colour has trickled into my life and has not gone unnoticed. But when they ask me for a reason for this change, I tell them their guess is as good as mine. I wonder if this has caused my inquiry into what these words represent. Perhaps the answer for why I change when I do or what I become will be apparent when someone reads them in their entirety. That even if I cease to change, this chronicle of an irrelevant life will remain—I hope.

Maybe they will laugh because it would be as obvious as the sun in the sky. And through space and through time, they will let me know.

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