Call it wonderlust...
There are those among us who endlessly crave understanding. It's an addiction of sorts...maybe even an obsession. Every new circumstance, every new downfall, every new triumph seems to be a clue on a never ending scavenger hunt. One idea leads to another, a glimmer of truth sparks a new question. Books fall off bookshelves, people wander in, time passes. Some nights as I drift off to sleep it all makes sense for a moment or two, but that understanding passes through me like a breeze and in the morning, I'm back on the hunt again.
For me, the written word is my spyglass and my microscope. Without it, my observations would remain distant and blurry, unintelligible, with no hope for interpretation. By passing my thoughts through the lens and light of paragraphs they find form and clarity where before they were a nebulous cloud.
I can't remember when this journey started and I can assure you I have no idea when it might end but you're welcome to join me if you like. Just remember to drop a few bread crumbs along the way so you don't get lost.
For me, the written word is my spyglass and my microscope. Without it, my observations would remain distant and blurry, unintelligible, with no hope for interpretation. By passing my thoughts through the lens and light of paragraphs they find form and clarity where before they were a nebulous cloud.
I can't remember when this journey started and I can assure you I have no idea when it might end but you're welcome to join me if you like. Just remember to drop a few bread crumbs along the way so you don't get lost.