I feel the past few days, my body has been seized by an alien puppet-maker, who has designs for me far different from the ones I had been pursuing before.
I seem to have stopped being the victim in a tragedy, to writing the play myself. I have gone from being the scrawny runt, never picked for the team, to not only choosing the team, but the sport itself.
I have gone from thinking of a possible goal being 5-10 years off, to figuring out a way to get started tomorrow.
This is a very strange, and scary, and overwhelming feeling. But I have a sinking suspicion that the puppet-maker... is me.
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1 comment:
Good. Take charge of this show!
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