Dreams (that may Ramble)


Two of my biggest dreams, my EARLIEST dreams–OMG! I can’t believe that I’m actually posting this!–have always been to be a pastry chef and a writer.  The pastry chef thing preceded the writer thing.  Okay, when I write on this blog, it is rather raw.  It tends to ramble because I have NOT edited it.  I ramble much less when I write on Word and then edit it, like nearly every writer on the planet often does.

Wow, how I wish that I could tell you my BIGGEST dreams, but I am way, way, way NOT ready to reveal those.  I’ve only recently come to be able to speak them aloud in prayer.  But they’ve always, ALWAYS been there, from before the foundation of the world.  And they’re PURPLE.  If you stick around, you might get to read about those.  Soon, perhaps.

My writing, wow, am I really going to be bold enough to post this here?  Yes!  Yes, indeed!  IN JESUS’ NAME!  I shall show forth ALL THY MARVELOUS WORKS!  But anyway, my writing, all these fictional worlds in my head, to which I have access nearly anytime I choose, these worlds are ALIVE, and ACTIVE, and ONGOING.  I can talk to these people and/or already have and/or will at some point in the future.  I can see them.  I can smell the oils in the engine rooms of the spaceships.  I can see the exact particular shade of blue that emanates from powering up the engines.  I have already done the math to create the drive system.  I can tell you who is having coffee with whom.  It’s there.  It’s real.  It’s my GIFT from GOD!

As a boy, I endured some rather rough moments.  To keep myself alive, I had to separate, delve into worlds of fiction.  From a VERY early age.  I knew Star Trek when I was in diapers.  Star Trek and Batman.  The original series, from the ’60’s.  I became Spock, hiding my emotions, at about 6 years old because I could not understand how that the entire UNIVERSE had not yet exploded because of the anger inside myself.  Wow, that’s rather more honest than I had the intention of being.

But, PRAISE THE LORD, that broken and angry little boy, he’s UNDER THE BLOOD!  In his pain, that boy was given those imaginary worlds as an escape.  AND NOW, EVERY MOMENT OF THAT PAIN HAS BEEN TURNED INTO YOUR GODLY FICTION, YOUR GOD-FILLED SCIENCE FICTION, YOUR DREAMS OF BECOMING THAT WRITER




and all I got to offer is my broken AMEN (Amen, translated from the Bible of the 1st alien species that Philo encounters, means: “Make it So, Number One!”)


}}Sorry, just some casual musings from a rambling man, a man who, in his fictional worlds, fancies himself to be studious and, at least occasionally, humorous. Does the fiction ever cross over into reality? Stay tuned until tomorrow night’s episode: same Bat-time, same Bat-channel.{{



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