I am a grain of sand that is blown by the wind, straying from the beach for miles, distant from the home I once knew. I once belonged, or was that just imagining, there abreast of the vast waters out beyond, jostling with my countless brethren for space above the surface, and sunlight. It is dark where I am now, even though I can breathe of the air; it is some forgotten corner of this world where I have drifted to; I don't even know how lost I am. Why has fate brought me here, or is it that fate has abandoned me altogether? That destiny never knew I existed, and all the reasons for why I am were never fully fleshed out, less than inklings in the cosmic mind, brushed away from the grand wheels of creation like so much excess dust? Why am I, if there is no why that I am?
Yet, even in the darkest dark, and sometimes, the darker the better, I dream. There are fantasies, yes, of greatness and fame and riches, but the ones I hold most dear are my dreams of purpose. These that give me new breath. To say that, World, you who have forgotten me I will make you tingle at the sound of my name. Fate, you who never planned anything for this being but a quiet death, I will seize your wheels and make them turn to the directions of my becoming. Yes, Destiny: you may pay no attention to me, but here in me I cannot but heed these dreams I have. This grain of sand shall make it to some high peak, I know not where, but there, the sun will shine more brightly than on any other sand, anywhere else. I will dream, and my heart shall truly know why I am.
Rich
7:15am thursday, 18th march
smaller than a grain of sand, a singularity. i really liked the second paragraph
Rich