Well, that time has finally come. It's hitting me that I just might be graduating this year (imagine that!) and I recognize that communication with people will only get harder and harder. Every stage of life, another person and another land is added on to that vast growing list of people to whom I send Christmas Cards, update on my life, and try to set rumors and gossip straight. The high school friends are worked out, the family receives the email, but now I must add this vast world of college, as well, and church and community.
Thus. . .this blog. Which, perhaps, will be a faithful recording of my life, of what I'm doing, where I plan to go, and what I feel. Perhaps it will become a bookmark for my writings, a way to post things I want read but never published. Maybe it will serve as a candle against the darkness of injustice, a special place to rant about social justice and to plea for solutions. Most likely it will be an unconnected series of ramblings that lead nowhere and explain nothing.
But then, that's what you all expect coming in, isn't it? You know me, and you know that my life is a curious amalgation of things perceived and not, the imagination tied intricately with memory in which what I dream is as real as what I experience, and what I say can be something I believe whole-heartedly or a vague ideal I heard recounted once on a commercial for Campbell's soup (which reminds me. . .I love those commercials for the sleeping pill. You know, the ones with the beaver and Abe Lincoln).
So to conclude this pointless beginning, let it be said. There is no road of life, just an endless series of hurdles, and I, my dear friends, have a pathetic tendency to run into them head-on. But bruises build character, and let's admit it. . .it's just plain old funny when those people fall down.
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