How Would You Prefer Taste?

With fate, if you were to decide, would you rather a sweet beginning and end in bitterness? Or would you rather half a lifetime of salty tear-soaked set of hurdles before tasting nothing but honey to the end? How about several lemons and sour grapes to prolong an aching long wait before fate enters with your big break into the comforts of luxury? Or worse, a lifetime of wondering why as you somehow gave up your sense of taste in trade of knowing all those other ones to avoid pain and misery?

I’m no philosopher, but I have these questions from time to time. I incorporate them into my writing as therapy. It’s easy to write about my struggles as I paint them in the fantasy world(s) I created. The drudgery of life drains my spirit when I don’t write: my one escape.

Before I knew it, I’ve written two full books and a collage of prose and poetry strewn all over the place.

I struggle to understand my existence as a human on this planet, my part in history that is as insignificant as a speck on a page than that of a fish in the sea. How many would understand my plight when I can’t even make waves? Or maybe, I’m just writing this down to look back at later with an answer, if not adding to it with yet another question.