Prologue

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Hello Big Word,

as many of you, I have decided to write a blog and share my thoughts about everyday stuff “of capital importance”.

Why did I come to this decision? I have also my own cursing butterfly effect leading me to acts driven by happiness or sadness, remorse, joy – full cavalcade of explainable but not understood feelings of mankind…

And of course – as “greater” purpose – I need to practice English, too 😉

About one year ago I have decided to write a book. I would not be honest if I would tell you that now I am planning the cover sheet for the first edition of my great story, but I am proceeding… For example, I have two prologues written, one of these is expressing my deepest inside, let stand those lines here:

“I have once heard a theory about choices in the life. It was resembled to a barbed-wire fence.  More precisely, to that one which is used to fence the chickens in the garden not to eat up everything and not to shit everywhere… Take a look at this fence. Do you see the junctions with the four wires at every joint? Good. One wire on the left side represents you and the other one represents an input you have to react on. The other two lines on the right side are symbolizing your possible answers to the interaction. You will choose one way instead of another and this will lead you to another choice you do not necessary would have to consider in case of taking the other path. And it can also happen that completely different actions will lead you to the same point on the fence line. You will never know. The tricky part is that you cannot go backward just forward. With every choice you will gain or loose something but you will have your certain past behind you influencing and constraining more and more your future steps. And sometime you will reach the top or the shitty bottom of the barbed-wire fence. And there won’t be any choices left.

And actually I did not just hear this metaphor. I have figured it out by myself at the age of 8 in the garden. However, I have taken several times willingly the wrong path. Not to mention the fact that while playing with the rusty wires I have hurt myself therefore the chicken fence was scrapped by grandma…

Be aware of the path you are taking…”

This prologue also stands as ars poetica for the upcoming posts about my life, my thoughs, my opinion, my choices…

“Weathervane”

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