I Can Only Think of This

Things always come to a close, and life is like a book, play or film; everything ends, and then everything starts again.

 

In the myth of Doctor Who, here is an alien who reaches the end of a life and then has an ability to regenerate. Like a caterpillar, who re-forms into a butterfly. We all shed our skin, grow a new aura and renew our way of thinking. So, in effect, we regenerate, the idea is not fantasy at all.

I have felt this recently with my son, who has finished primary education and has moved up to secondary. This is a huge step, and will go a long way towards forming the character that he is going to be. It is very much a case of closing the book on one story, and then opening a new book up to start another thrilling adventure; and during this time, he will regenerate into a young adult, growing and changing physically and intellectually; exciting times ahead.

 

Does life play out like a movie, and the people that come in and out of your life are your supporting actors? An existentialist view would be that if you cannot see a person, then that person does not exist. The trouble is, by thinking like that, it means that you cannot be sure a person in front of you whom you love is real. Yet, they could all be waiting in the wings of your life, listening out for their cue to walk on and announce their presence.  Then, once the scene has played out, they return to their existence on the periphery.

 

Kent has a rich and varied history, but I cannot find anything with dragons. This is a shame, as I imagine that a dragon’s nest lies beneath The Archbishops Palace in Maidstone, in the thick walls below the ground floor. The dragon nestles between the palace and the river Medway,  and at night flies up over the Lockmeadow development, casting a spell over cinema-goers, breathing flame over the law courts. That is why the trees turn red.

 

There are some people who can be very rude. I often wonder if it is learned behaviour or if they strive to be like that. Either way, there is no need for it, and if you expect other people to acknowledge you from their world then at least acknowledge that they exist in yours. It does not cost, and it does not hurt, so why are humans so cruel to each other?

 

Does a ghost of me exist in all the places that I have previously visited?

 

Stories have a way of being both antagonistic and appeasing. They tell the truth within their fictions and perhaps it is only the really blind who cannot see themselves in the stories being presented.

 

 

Zac Thraves is a storyteller and writer living in Kent; if you wish to book him to come along to your party, young or old,  or to give a speech at your local school then please contact him at zacharystories@outlook.com