Do You Just Want To Get By?

Using Words To Talk Of Words Is Like Using A Pencil To Draw A Picture Of Itself, On Itself. Impossible. Confusing. Frustrating ... But There Are Other Ways To Understanding.

All Stories Are True.

Over The Last Month I Had Pulled A Woman From A Blazing Inferno. I Had Called Fire And Lighting Down On Assassins And Escaped To Safety. I Had Even Killed Something That Could Have Been Either A Dragon Or A Demon, Depending On Your Point Of View. But There In That Room Was The First Time I Actually Felt Like Any Sort Of Hero. If You Are Looking For A Reason For The Man I Would Eventually Become, If You Are Looking For A Beginning, Look There.

I've Got A Solid Grounding In History, Sociology, Anthropology, Philosophy, Etc Etc. That Means I Actually Have A Good Idea About How Societies Change And Evolve. I Know How A Lot Of Them Have Actually Functioned Through The Years. I Can Put Together A Culture That's Cool And Different, While Still Being Logically Consistent, So That It Feels Real. So Many Fantasy Worlds Are Either Implausible, Cookie-cutter, Or Both. Mine Aren't.

Then I Played The Song That Hides In The Center Of Me. That Wordless Music That Moves Through The Secret Places In My Heart. I Played It Carefully, Strumming It Slow And Low Into The Dark Stillness Of The Night. I Would Like To Say It Is A Happy Song, That It Is Sweet And Bright, But It Is Not.