Scholar

Today was the first day I've ever worked on a daily paper.
Apparently now I'm a good journalist.

The weather was beautiful. Puffy little white clouds in a scrubbed blue sky. The sun, as usual, a pain in the eyes.

I think...

I think maybe...

Nevermind, the thought was there, and then it was gone. I've probably written upwards of 100,000 words on this blog. Some of them have been wise. Some of them have been unpopular. Not all of them are true (or, they are all true, at least from my point of view). More than a few have been connectors and precursors such as "and" and "alas."

Somebody once asked me why I blog. I take it in stride with my writing. And if one should ask why I write, is it not natural for one with lungs to breathe?

So then, if hands are like lungs, I'm concerned. The world's choking. Choking and dying.

I think... that when I'm gone, I'll be the first person in my entire family line to have left something for later generations to come back to, and piece together a fairly accurate (if somewhat twisted) image of me. I'll be the first "grandpa" in my family to live on in something other than a photograph.

Is immortality a kind of power?


Deep thoughts aside, I'm sure there's some "bootlegged" copies of my wretched piano solo out there. I think it'll only be a matter of time before it finds its way onto the internet.

*hint, hint*

I should see if I get weekends off. I've got bills to pay and stuff to buy.