Random unrelated stuff

once upon a time

i know this isn't actually a story, but whatever. i had fun writing it :)

            Once upon a time that has not been marked by any history text book as and age of strife or turmoil or interest of any sort (though text books tend not to be very good judges on what is interesting), there lived a young girl.

            This girl was of good disposition. She was fairly pretty, as girls go, and went through all the normal emotional and physical states that a person normally goes through in his or her lifetime. If she had any siblings of any age or temperament, I will not speak of them here. Likewise, if her parents were extraordinary, or quite the opposite, or even if she had none, I think I will remain silent on that point as well. Also, I will not tell you whether or not she ever married or had any children in any way.

Indeed, you, as you read this, cannot even be sure that "she" is a she. I may be telling the story of a man, young or old. This is possible because this person, whomever he/she/it/they is/are, is/are a figment of my/your/Bob's imagination and is/are therefore subject to the whims of you/me/Bob. Anyway...

            She (if she is indeed of the singular, feminine persuasion) lived and died in the usual way. Nothing dreadfully thrilling happened to her that I feel the need to record, and her life was not at all boring. She was not unhappy with her life as long as she had it, and when it was no longer in her possession, she went to a place where either one could not be sad or one could not be happy.

            This was her life. The End. I'm sorry for this tale's short stature, but there will be no more of it. Character's in books are people too, and should be allowed to live happy normal lives every now and then.

            I am not against adventure in good literature, by any stretch of the imagination, but in my opinion excitement is becoming too common a thing, and far too expected. Nowadays, when a reader opens a book in any media, they expect the unexpected to happen, which ruins the effect quite entirely.

The story I have just related was no doubt unexpected beyond your wildest comfort zones, and you were probably quite disappointed with it. I know I was. The thought of a character controlled by the author's pen that never experiences hardship is distasteful to you, as it is to me, proving that I am a human being in some sense.

I, like you, would much prefer to read an account of a ghastly occurrence that reassures and comforts the reader simply because it is not happening to him. However, this bland record which I have penned for you is happening to you, no doubt, and that is very unsettling.

I would much prefer to write about a gallant young man who passes through the valley of the shadow of death and rescues a beautiful princess, and they fall in love and live happily ever after (I have always wondered what people mean by that phrase. Happily after what, I should like to know.). But I feel that the literary world needs a dash of good old disappointment to make the rest of it sweeter. Go now to your great tales of excitement, but try to be as unprepared as possible.

            Now I have exhausted my opinion to an absurd degree. It is over. done. completed. kaput. finished.

            Go away.