Some people are born writers; some people are born escape artists. I am a born escapist. This is yet another form of escapism. I spend my life seeking out ways of escaping form the task at hand and usually the task at hand is merely the act of living. I haven’t yet learned to enjoy life; I’ve only just come to a small understanding of what life is all about. We are barely on speaking terms but I’m hoping over time we might become friends.
I have one of two ways of treating this. I could write like you are strangers I haven’t met yet or I could right like you are strangers I will never meet. Let’s just work on the assumption that given enough time and the right inclination we might just bump into one another.
So welcome to my slice of the pie. I hope there is something of interest within these tissue paper walls that stirs up flurries of thought and leaves you asking something more of me, of yourself, or of the stranger you passed on the street and never looked up to see the worry lines, the distant look or the weight they carried on their flagging shoulders.