I hate starting with the word "I," it's like seeing Narcissus down that body of water again, mesmerized by his own looks. But hate is too strong a word, so they say. Let's take the word hate and replace it with dislike. Ergo, I dislike my starter. Gee, I must've ran out of words and go-juice.I know (here I go again with the word I) I have been telling your stories, catching raw emotions through words, imprisoning them in paragraphs and sentences for you to read and ponder on. My, I have been taking the limelight for quite a time. Which puts us back to the intro on Narcissus - and I would like to change that for now.
Like any other story tellers, there will always be a time to pause. The tale must end. If the fabric of existence is truly seamless, the weaver still must sleep. I haven't ran out of ideas to write or stories to tell. I sure do have to tell you about the red inked masterpiece that changed a lady's life, the shaking truth about perennial love between a couple that stood beyond the test of time, a kid's last wishes that made me cry and had shivers down my spine, another kid's request on bringing back home someone he misses every single day, the bond of friendship we had beyond distance, a young dad's book travels, the guy I so know who has been lying to himself about certain undeniable feelings towards another who is just, well, waiting (c'mon, you still and DO love her). Those stories and many more - when I am back, if ever I can get back. Will I say "hope floats" again? I guess not, the last time I did, it was a wreck.
But for now, say, I switch on the light bulb - no, not the one on my place, but there, right on top of you. Say I am giving you this chance to speak up, ask questions, tell me stories, about you, about people, even about me, if you like. Say, it is your one million dollar chance, to shut me up and have my ear.
And like some scholars' belief that the last phrase connects with the incomplete sentence that begins the book (or the blog title for this instance), implying an unending cycle, so I end mine with applying such thought.
Go on, don't be shy. Take off your shoes. Take my hand and tell your story to the girl who has...
p.s. je t'aime (you and you)
