There once was a proposition made. It had little to do with what was around, abounding. In fact not one of the varied and multipulous existants knew one little bit of what it could really be about.
But where it came from, that's a different story. Because all had witnessed, the path the proposition traveled was well observed, and played over and over again through time, when it arose, for that was all that they had to grasp. So little.
But so much when it finally came time to answer, to respond. For, you see, the ultimatum was just as well known as the origin. So the point was arrived upon, and who can deny fate?
From the beginning they'd worked so hard to find what wasn't there.
On Xmas of 1992 my brother gave me this journal made of recycled paper with a twig pencil. I eventually filled it up sporadically up to 1995. I dug it out, dusted it off, and started looking through it today, May 6th, 2013. I've decided to reproduce the posts online. It's raw and sure to be embarrassing, but I feel enough time has passed that I can distance myself, yet find a very familiar me within these lines and perhaps find the inspiration to take up the pen again..... Thanks, big Bro.
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