As it turns out, it can be a Thursday night when someone can wake up and find himself on a piece of paper the size of the World.

It was - as papers tend to be sometimes - completely empty.

There are many common, clichéd things a person can do when they find themselves on paper; walking and jumping around would be one, and yelling and hollering for answers would be another. The common, clichéd thing to happen next is the introduction of a Wise Old Man as a convention to further the plot and answer pivotal questions. Which is, incidentally, exactly what we’re going to do.

Naturally, the person would yell and holler at the Wise Old Man for answers. Unnaturally, the Wise Old Man would start doodling on the paper and drool after a few lines of “Pop Goes the Weasel”. This may seem like the Wise Old Man is, indeed, not Wise at all, but Old and Man all the same.

“You’re not going to further things by answering the question, won’t you?” the person would ask.

“There is no need to. You see, you’re merely a metaphorical representation of a writer meaning to metaphorically represent you in what that could easily be the metaphorical representation of what he may term as ‘A New Chapter’ in life. Ergo, you’re sitting on paper, which is the World – his World,” said the Wise Old Man. “A penny for a spool of thread…”

“So why is it all empty? Why is it blank?”

“Why, it’s so you can fill it out yourself. Write out the chapter. Make your own World.” The Maybe-Not-Quite-Wise-but-definitely-Old-and-Man Wise Old Man would then walk away, and as common and clichéd as it goes, simply vanished.

And so, our person stands still on a vast, empty piece of paper the size of the world, knowing very well that he would have to fill it out, and feeling very silly that he has to be written this way by someone not really sure on how to start a long neglected blogpost.

And so, I suppose, we move on to the rest of things.

***

This is what really happened after my previous post (unfortunately, it does not involve me on a plane crash stranding me on open seas where I inexplicably discover the mythical entrance to Rapture, which is some sort of adult theme park minus the fun):

1)    1)   I got on a plane. And then another.

2)     2)  I reached the United States of America (America! Eff Yeah!)

3)     3)  I had the best 2 weeks of my life (of Dreams, and Warmth, and Fireworks, and Hands-Held, and Burgers and Books and Kites and Green Grass and Childhood Memories)

4)    4)   I came back to the midst of hectic magazine-wrapping, which took 2 weeks.

5)      5) I’m living the sort of life I could only dream of. The sort of life I don’t intend to keep on living, because I want it to be better.  I want it to be more than a dream.

And that’s about it.

There may be too much of the States to write out in a single entry, so I intend to start off further posts with a little of the States and the rest of everything else. If I do.  

I hope I do.

It would be better if you make me.

I’m leaving the last bit of this post with two things. One of them is this:

And in case you’d be interested in joining or passing it along with more information, you can find out more here.

The other thing is this:

And well, also this:

Because they’re going nowhere and I ought to get back to taking pictures a little more seriously.

(I also notice the futility of trying to share things here, because, frankly, no one reads this, except maybe my blog spider, which I’m not sure if it’s still around.)

Goodnight, people.