All of This Ink
By Keith Kareem Williams
I joke all the time and say that my life is a movie every time something crazy or unusual happens. I've also realized that I'm the author of this screenplay. Every part of my life was written by me or my actions and I'm standing in the middle of my own library. You see, every book on these shelves was written by my own hand.
I've come to realize that with every action, I am actually writing the story of my own life. New words, sentences, paragraphs, pages, and chapters that eventually become entire books, each representing a different aspect of my life. It amounts to rows upon rows and aisles upon aisles of literature. I wrote every single one over the course of my thirty-five years here and the vastness of my library surprises me. There are some chapters that I'm proud of. I've been inspired to do great things a few times in my life. Then, there are volumes that represent pieces of my life that I wish I could toss in a bonfire and burn. Although it brings me great pain, I often re-read those books so I don't forget the lessons. I can't forget about the sections I wish I could edit and make corrections to but I only write in ink, not pencil. There are volumes filled with words and actions that I swear I wish I could take back. The finality of those pages reminds me that such thoughts are wasted on such silly things.
There are, of course, those chapters that document the lives I've lived with different people over the years. The section on love I find most interesting. I'll wait for the woman that can put a match to the other volumes on the shelves because only the ones dedicated to my life with her matter. Until then, I'll just keep writing.
I love this! Thank you for honesty! =)
ReplyDeleteIvonne
Thanks for reading Ivonne. I promise to always give you the real me.
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