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Nicholas Williamson
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On rare occasions I leave town and go into the country, or around the country and the only reason that I go there is because someone asked me to, or else pays me to do it. Other than that I remain inside the ??dome? as I call my city. I am an urban poet: I imbibe the spirit of Thoreau not his milieu.
My wife, Diane, describes me as a man who lives obsessively under a pile of words which scatter all about like autumn leaves. Beyond that she is non-committal. My youngest daughter says I am kind, loving, huggable and mad. My eldest children have left home. They still email me now and again, which I take to be good news.
I can only agree with Nietzsche that the past is a dead hand upon the present.
I am what I am because that is what I have chosen to be, whether I realised it or not and whether the synchronicities that have teased me to this place are only obvious in hindsight and probably not obvious at all. I am here as the compounded consequence of all the millions of decisions (and indecisions?Thomas) taken by me, and others, across a lifetime, and for which I have no explanation. I am no longer even remotely certain whether cause predates effect or vice versa.
Basically as long as all my most important people are ok and there is food in the fridge when I want it, life is cool.
Nicholas.
Jakari's Genres: poetry, crime fiction, blogging, business "how to"
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