If you knew when you began a book what you would say at the end, do you think that you would have the courage to write it? What is true for writing and for a love relationship is also true for life.
The game is worthwhile insofar as we don't know what will be the end."
- Michael Foucault -
i keep reflecting these words as of late.
i believe i first discovered them,
read them, at keri smith's lovely blog.
and these past months,
there have been so many chapters written,
chapters that have put smiles on the face,
maybe a bit of pain in the heart,
chapters that have yearned for their continuations
and chapters that have gracefully taken a bow and courtsey,
some chapters never found their final words,
and some chapters are possibly still being written.
our life is so much like a book,
each of us has our own personal book of stories.
and we compile these.
with each day and month.
and each year.
sometimes these stories are written in our hearts,
sometimes just in our minds.
and sometimes these stories are even written on the skin.
scars or wrinkles that remind us where we've been,
how we've grown and how we change.
my mind is wandering these days.
maybe even wanting to step back into certain chapters
and yet, eagerly waiting for the new chapters to begin.
but i suppose in simply writing these thoughts,
and all the things between the lines,
it's just a small way of writing the chapters of today.
because these are the moments that each of us,
right here and now.
maybe sometimes, that's the only thing we really share.
[photograph - unwrap this body
taken once upon a long time ago
in an earlier chapter]