I, the start to every story.
The perspective arranged, from me, through my eyes, I thought, I feel, I wondered, (enter product A ( to be considered) or person B (to feel about) in situation C (to wonder at)), the scene set, let the play continue……the show has begun.
What loss though when ‘I’ becomes lost, a fair-yea-well of self, a new elastic perspective born. Now a stick to measure by with indefinate length, a yo-yo-ing yard branch rendered useless by its pliant nature. How now to gain a new eye? None feel real any, i have lived too many lives. Who, thats is the only real story. Who are YOU. And who the hell am I. Then let the story begin. The story of who i.