I pray my melancholic and often rather morbid concepts in such scripts I herein parley do not nor have not disquieted yourself to anticipating a perpetuation of such stanzas and sentences, forth. Furthermore, inasmuch as you do so read, I pray you may know me well as a writer of many aspects and colors. Thus allow me to regale in tales of anecdotal pleasure and joy the passings of events of my recent life and also in a form of brevity rather than expatiation.
I am deeply in love. My girlfriend is the one in whom shall be my wife. Thank heavens she is not so much one for internet meandering to that of the extensive reading of blogs, lest my endeavor be revealed far to premature past the point of that most wondrous surprise of: “will you marry me?” I even have the ring. Why am I in love with her, might you ask? I am in love with her foremost because of her faith in God. All other attributes surrounding my affections for her are secondary. Yet, those secondaries consist of a plethora of most amiable qualities. Yet, to spare thy eyes, for it is known by at least my followers of how “addictied” my fingers seem to be upon my keyboard, I shall name the one which emphasizes itself above the rest: she accepts me. Though she calls me crazy, silly, nerdy, geeky and all other facets about a man who knows just about everything concerning Rembrandt van Rijn, she has not fled, she has not scolded my character for being my character. She has not induced me to change (save for trifles). She does not criticize me. To conclude, she is unbiased, unprejudiced and fair. I wish to also say that even the most dazzling flowers of the field and roses of Sharon fail in comparison to the florulent pulchritude resonating like a prismatic sunbeam off a crystalline surface against my eyes having beheld no equal in even my distant past. She has also made it be, that I am now the official violinist of our worship team at church: I attend rehearsal and show up early Sunday morning to warm up and rehearse further. These and a myriad of many other both little and profound things have enveloped me in my love for her.
I helped her move into her new place last weekend. I bumped my head twice and drew blood and swelling on both. She only knows about one. Over the two days it took to move the heavy furniture, my muscles swelled of aching and soreness, yet only to diminish to make me stronger. This was my service preceding a lifetime of servitude to her. The more I serve her, the more she consequently loves me. What do I get? What has she given me? Service! My reward, reader, my joy, pleasure and enjoyment is the very act of service. Far be it that she works harder than me. Far more removed that my interest ever come before her own. Despite her own affections, massages, kisses and little gifts (actually, they’re quite profound) she will not be the one to surpass my endeavors to serve her. Technically, she shall always be in debt. However, no debt is established on matters of gifts, service and gestures forth of love, pure and true love.
This event stands apart from my girlfriend yet is intertwined, for my cousin is getting married Saturday and I am going to play the piano for the whole ceremony: walk down and all. My girlfriend is to at last meet my extended family. Her brothers, her nephews and niece, her uncle, aunt and cousins and second cousins, her mother and the whole family (who decidedly knows the meaning of “party”, let me say) have already bestowed the fabled words of, “welcome to the family”. My girlfriend has yet to be given the official and obligatory reciprocation. With Facebook, it is the buzz of my family to see this fresh young girl, for all my other cousins have long since past there begetting of children. I have a second cousin who is in college. My immediate family has taken their time, my “lazy” self of no excetption. Therefore, “who is she?” “when will we meet her?” “she’s pretty.” “are you two serious…?” The frequency of a family whose grandmother and grandfather begot ten brothers and sisters; who in themselves live quite abroad, up to but not limited to Russia, Canada et cetera.
Happiness… did I not have a post entitled depression withdrawls? Yet as I learn more and more about life and reality, the concept of depression albeit still existent, gradually has become somewhat less, how shall I say, applicable in the sense of its abnormal application to individuals. The normal being that of one who grieves in the pain of loss et cetera. Yet I was depressed for the reason that I believed my place in this world was utterly irrelevant; a sloth, nay, a speck of dust to have had more meaning than that of what I so mercilessly placed upon myself, Autism notwithstanding.
Hope you enjoyed this. I love to write, all the more induced to manifold capabilities in light of my joy.
-The Giver of Words.
Postscript: as per all my entries, simply for my sake as a published author, be sure to check out and purchase your own copy of The Rudimentum Series: Aeon Eternal. Tate Publishing.com; Barnes and Noble.com; Amazon.com; iBooks. Support the cause, for my ideas are bursting out of my head and I long for the world to read and see them. Thank you.