Today and tomorrow and that is it. The end of the road.

Ok, so that probably sounds way too dramatic than it needs to be but I just can’t help myself counting down to the end of these short little journal entries and the beginning of m fictional career. After this entry has been written and it will be both a happy and a sad occasion. Happy because I am dreaming of the wonderful stories I get to tell and sad because there is really no reason to end this thread except to make time for something new.

And that’s it isn’t it?

Life is about making room and cleaning out what we have done in order to make room for something else. We do this physically and we do this personally, with work and with our relationships. The world and we are constantly changing and adjusting where we want to go. What was once important may no longer be in the future and so there is only one to go.

To be honest, I didn’t see this moment when I started almost three years ago. I wrote because I wanted to write and the subject matter didn’t seem too important. After three years however, the subject matter is very much important and now I have the task of dreaming up stories that the world has never seen.

A part of me is a tincy wincy bit worried that I will be unable to come up with plot. I think I have lived long enough to have a good grasp of character development. Shows like the Sopranos and Breaking Bad are a big help as well, but plot, that is a whole other beast. I mean where the hell am I going to get the ideas? Where are they going to come from? Is there an idea box or website I can peek into in order to make my life easier? Probably not. Not probably. There is no idea box, only the imagination that up to this point has remained dormant. 

It is time to shake it awake and see what it has been thinking all this time.

This is the end of the road but not the end of the conversation.

Nine hundred and one down and one, only one left to go.


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