15 minutes

It  is commonly known that every human being is entitled to 15 minutes of fame. You can imagine my surprise when that time has been snatched by a mutant mariachi. Then again it might also be a sign that chaos is yet to be unleashed in another form. Just like the demons, lazurs are on the loose again. It’ll require some scouting along the common paths, kicking in doors and putting more weight on the mailman’s back. But he’ll manage, everything’s allowed to commence a new legend. 

Beckett

I have attended a gathering. The people were talking about an immortal writer. They put a light on things I couldn’t perceive myself: the gloom, the humour and the resilient lack of a beginning middle and end. 

This is structure supposed to reflect life itself, more specific the day to day basis. Ironically, this part of life also reflected on the current approach by connoisseurs: people keep digging up the long gone writer’s statements, digging for clues and making their own perceptions from it. And when the day goes by the writer will still be dead and new opinions will resurface. Still, the experts might have a point. And the pastime of some is not necessarily better than others. Then again... sometimes, shorter really is better.  I do wonder why some pastimes are considered more rewarding than others. In the end, all that matters is our legacy to the others, but would we mind? In the end it's all about how to stop breeding (or is it breathing?) before the carrions arrive. Ah well, sometimes a good laugh will suffice too. 

the beginning

Life is about to start. I am ripped away from my former self. Free to wander the world as I am pleased. No longer bound to former duties and responsibilities, I can unleash the chaos. Still, for some reason I seem to have picked up the habit of leaving trails of words... perhaps keeping a journal will still remind me of who I once was.