Where to start? Life has a definitive end, but beginnings and first times fill our mortal days. Very well then, I shall introduce myself. I am Falchion Malacandra, a philosopher-king of my divided intellect. I seek peace through the wisdom of the ages, as I find portals to the minds of others I learn and gain experience. Books are the most conventional means to this end - from some minds I glean keen insight into the ideal human condition, others act as warning to the depths to which mankind may seek. In my youth I observed far more than I acted, and this has been the story of my life.
For an example, I am quite attracted to the feminine persuasion, yet have contented myself to theoretical rather than physical interaction. For in the realm of my mind, I can intellectually simulate a conversation, a banter with no stakes and no hurt feelings. People are unpredictable for the mere reason that they will hold a different perspective of a situation than we will. I might misspeak, give the wrong message to people. I have found that girls are sometimes like flowers, it is enjoyable to take in their beauty and grace, but the nurturing and care that keeps them in such a state takes time, commitment, and patience.
I don't wish to play with the feelings of a fellow human being. I am reluctant to commit to anything, for I would prefer to keep my word when I give it, and to back out of a relationship that I initiated seems quite rude to my tastes. Of course, it is also rude not to engage at all, so I do try to be polite and respectful in my conversations.
In short, the above is the reason I love to read so much. It gives the opportunity to view the world from another set of eyes. My portable library is composed of a few choice books as well as an Ipod of fickle battery life. The music is made up of free trials which have a decay rate of 5 plays before being lost into the void of memory. The music that I actually enjoy to hear has to be conserved as a fine cask of vintage wine - to be meditated and savored upon in a special moment. Books, music, and artwork are memories, legacies that the writers or artists leave behind in a ever changing world as proof that they existed and mattered.
Long after the artist has breathed its last breath, their handiwork depends on the love and care of others to survive. Mark Twain in his dark period wrote the Mysterious Stranger, and at the end, had his characters break the fourth wall and acknowledge that they were merely players in a greater author's mind. "All there is is you, and you are but a thought." A 21st century director named Christopher Nolan used his medium to wax eloquent on the power of a thought. It left moviegoers confused, but it spurred them to wonder, to think, to reconsider what the point was. They didn't realize that Nolan had them already, his mission was accomplished - he created a movie that would attract the curious, and turn away the doubters, both of which would hold the movie in their minds. The point is existence, is investing your work in others, to be remembered for a magnum opus or a colossial failure is preferable to not being recalled at all.
The saddest thing in the world is a man who dies without friends, without a ripple on the earth. Sometimes the leap is worth the risk of falling. As Douglas Adams wrote, "There is an art, or rather, a knack to flying. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss. Pick a nice day, and try it."
The moment has passed in so many ways for me. I am a living library, an audiobook with the purpose to remember what has gone before and leverage the knowledge of the ages, philosophers and fools alike can teach valuable lessons. I have a precedent in the realms of fiction - Lois Lowry's Giver and Ray Bradbury's converted Fireman from Fahrenheit 451. I pray that I have a better conclusion to my life's story.
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