History

We are nothing but a collection of stories.
The ones we tell.
The ones other people tell.

In a year, or ten, or forty, those of us who still live, who are still remembered; they will all be very different people, because their stories stories will have evolved, expanded or contracted, will have been adjusted to meet the needs of their respective storytellers.

The unlucky few who's lives are memorable enough to become part of our 'history' will never be the same person they were at twenty, at fifty, in life.

They will be canonized, demonized, and eventually trivialized (in the truest sense of the word).


Better to be a disembodied voice in the crowd.

Invisible.

Forgettable.

Planting an idea here,
a notion there,
a seed of doubt,
a little kernel of thought at an inopportune moment,
playing the long game.





When his work is done, his aim fulfilled,
They will say, “We did this ourselves.”
― Lao Tzu  ―