The only blog I’ve ever done before, as I just iterated to the subject of said “blog”, was not exactly a difficult one to write for. This one however, can employ no such underhand tricks to fill its pages. No, I have to think of original material, a task which I am not confident I will be able to carry out. Nevertheless though, I will try.
Ric is the reason I have started this log, I think his original idea was that it would enable us friends to tell our friends what things we are getting up to with our other friends. Or enemies. However, I think his blog has since transformed slightly, into something more interesting.
But anyway, here’s something I wrote once.
I am a hired hand. A tool for use by the wealthy and influential, the big people of this world. My kind gather in the back streets, no longer part of the rest of society, not safe in the loving arms of our former protectors. We owe allegiance to ourselves, and to our own value in coin, whatever currency the employer pays us in. Lost as we seem, we do not care for such narrow definitions of character and situation. We will not be judged by, nor will we be subject to the misunderstanding rule of those who would pass judgement and subjugate. We will though, work. Drawn to shadow, our instinct is as natural as the river as it flows to the ocean, our persistence as inexorable, our movements as fluid.
This cage I find myself in, it is rough hewn and ugly, but it carries me well. It bears me aloft, serves as a vessel to convey me from this place to the next. Poorly constructed as it seems, it will not fail me, for of it, I ask little; simply that it carry me, nothing more. So onwards it takes me, down the next path and through the next doorway, to my appointment with the newest master.
