I consider myself a conceited fucker.
I have this idea in my head that–somehow–everything will work out in the end. I am convinced of this because I liken myself to the protaganist I read in my books. I say, hey, they had to go through a lot of shit before they fulfilled their destiny
Maybe that’s it, I believe in Destiny.
And there are bad endings. Who knows, maybe I’m destined to end tragically, but won’t it be a beautiful read?
I’m writing this as I go along,
(this is a first person narrative, thank you)
moving my pen, I think I’m beginning to get a hang of this…
Yes, I am the Hero.
and with every Hero there is a Call to Adventure,
there are trials and obstacles, monsters and ogres, challenges and tests, crossing the threshold,
there are people who I will encounter along the way, some foe, some friend, some guides, some people to give me something valuable, like keys to move forward, yes, and mountains to climb and forests to navigate, and sights to see, marvelous sights!…
death and rebirth, the road back, the completion…
(Loosely quote Joseph Campbell)
Every character should want something, even if it’s only a glass of water. (Quote Kurt Vonnegut.)
Yeah, I know what I want,
I hear the call,
the celestial call,