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My Life in Stories


by The Urban Blabbermouth
 My first moment of creativity occurred the moment I was born, and frankly, it went downhill from there.  No matter what I thought up in fantasies and wrote into stories thereafter, nothing could top my creativity in creating myself at the moment of my birth.  All of me came to me in a flash, in an instant, in an explosion of creativity like the Big Bang.  Me, bursting upon the universe in a loud wail and the universe was suddenly better, well, certainly noisier if nothing else.  It was magnificent.

Where then can I go from here in writing my story?  What false attempts to top my initial and greatest moment of glory can I engage in now?  I have one hundred years to try.  More than half the years have passed and I still have no answer to tell you.  I have written countless stories, some rich in joy, love, humor, and others poor in joy, love, humor, and so far, none have proven worthy.   

The truth is this -- the day my answer finally comes to me, will turn out to be the last day of my one hundredth year, and my last day here in this world.  I will then be born again in another magnificent burst of creativity in the next - whatever it is that comes. 

So there you have it, born in creativity, dies in creativity, and muddled through the middle somehow.


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