I fear only fear. The whistling, wolfish winds of night; monsters steeped in shadows beneath beds; the many unknowns, shrouded beyond the veil and betwixt destiny's many folds; judgment and pain; breaking; distance and love; apathy and angst; failure and loss - the many catalysts of fear, pumping at the bellows of fright for a spark of fearful fire, with a malicious grin, do I fear these or what these bring?
Sometimes what appears inevitable branched from a stem of choice. You may choose boredom or adventure, though perhaps not always the adventures that arrive. You may choose good or evil, though not always the consequences of your actions. You may choose truth or deceit, love or hate, kindness or cruelty, hope or doubt. But sometimes, sometimes these are chosen for you, without you, over you, and your will gets trampled when you simply arrived at the wrong place during a stampede.
There are many doors, and the world isn't as dualistic as we'd like to believe. Pick one, pick some, and see where they lead.
I finished my last of four original Agatha Christie mysteries today (original meaning the first four I found). I bought another four, but first I think I'll be reading some novels that I've been meaning to read for a long while: "The Da Vinci Code" and "History of Love" and the rest of "The Story of Art" which I have not read since influenza ate my life. I think this is the year of Agatha Christie. There are roughly 80 novels that she has written, and my mother has notified me that she owns everything Agatha Christie has written. Easy game, easy life. They take roughly two or three hours to read each, so about 240 hours of reading. I also was told to read a couple of other books, so I probably won't get to Agatha Christie binge.
I also bought a Sue Grafton and am looking everywhere for a Josephine Tey (The Daughter of Time) and if you find it, I want to borrow it.
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