Post by Glenn Owen on Aug 2, 2024 16:00:55 GMT -5
No Fate But What We Create?
The scene opens with the soft glow of twilight settling over a small, cosy country cottage on the outskirts of a tiny village in England. The air is crisp, and a gentle breeze rustles through the tall grass, carrying the scent of earth and the distant song of a nightingale. Glenn Owen sits on a weathered wooden bench outside the cottage, his eyes occasionally drifting towards the village's clock tower, its silhouette stark against the darkening sky. The clock tower stands as a silent sentinel, its hands slowly moving, marking the passage of time.
Glenn's expression is one of deep contemplation, the lines on his face etched by years of battles fought and losses endured. The solitude of this place offers a rare moment of peace, a sanctuary where he can confront his inner demons and seek clarity.
"I have a question, a simple yet complex one. It’s one that’s become more prominent the older I get, and I am old now. Not ancient, but old! That much has over time come to pass."
He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in the tranquility of the evening. The sounds of nature seem to echo his thoughts, a symphony of life and reflection. His gaze briefly returns to the clock tower, its face illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun.
"Do you ever wonder how we ended up where we are? Was it fate? Is our destiny out of our control? I don’t like that feeling, for I believe as I think all people should that fate is nothing but what we create. But when I look at so many of the tragedies that befall upon all of us, maybe it is only fate that could bring such atrocities to pass."
Glenn opens his eyes, gazing at the darkening sky. Stars begin to emerge, tiny beacons of light in the vast expanse of the universe. He feels a connection to the stars, as if they too have witnessed the passage of time and the struggles of countless souls.
"I didn’t ask my stepfather to die, yet he did. I didn’t ask Shadow to die, yet he did. I sure as hell didn’t ask my father to die. What kind of evil God bestowed that upon me less than two years ago! If that’s what fate has for me, then I’ll speak directly to whatever entity controls fate with these simple words…"
He pauses, not with anger, but with a quiet, resolute defiance.
"Fuck you, fate. Fate gives you pain, suffering, and a sense of a loss of control. Maybe that’s just the way the world is, maybe that’s the path we subconsciously forge for ourselves. To be honest, I don’t know, and today I don’t care. Some things in life are now, and I guess will forever be, out of my control. So if that’s true, then like all great men, I guess we should focus on what we can control, what path we can forge for ourselves. The journey is always long and hard, isn’t it! But at least we get to choose the direction we travel!"
A faint smile crosses his lips as he reflects on the paths he has walked. He stands slowly, stretching his limbs, and begins to walk around the cottage. The grass is cool beneath his feet, and the night air is refreshing. His eyes once again drift to the clock tower, its hands inching closer to the hour.
"I’ve travelled many paths, haven’t I, many in this world and far more in the other. To be speaking here today proves that I’ve lost my way. I look around at a world I founded and built from the ground up and see little that I now know. Yet that essence, that mist in the air of future kings, former champions, lost souls, and forgotten dreams, well they all still linger in the air, don’t they? Like a bad smell, some of us just won’t go away."
He stops by an old oak tree, its branches reaching out like ancient arms offering shelter. He leans against the trunk, feeling the rough bark against his back, grounding him in the present moment. He glances at the clock tower again, listening to the faint ticking that seems to echo in the stillness.
"Time... it’s a curious thing, isn’t it? We measure it, we chase it, we fear it. Yet, it is the one constant, the ever-present force that moves us forward, whether we like it or not. Each tick of the clock is a reminder that our moments are finite, that every second counts. How many times have we stood at the crossroads of fate, questioning the hands that guide us?"
He closes his eyes, lost in thought, the memories of battles past and paths taken swirling in his mind.
"Which leads me to my second set of questions, ones that I will pose to you all and let you answer quietly in the dark of the night. Do you know who I am? Do you remember my soul? Did you think I had gone? Do you think I ever truly went away?"
Glenn's eyes scan the horizon, his thoughts drifting to the unknown future. He knows that the answers to his questions lie not in the stars, but within himself.
"I have been many things in my time. A warrior, a champion, a wanderer. But above all, I am a survivor. And in the quiet of this night, I find a strange peace in knowing that the journey never truly ends. It simply evolves, just as I have."
The moon rises, casting a silvery glow over the landscape. Glenn's silhouette is framed against the night sky, a solitary figure standing strong amidst the uncertainties of life.
"So here I stand, at the crossroads of past and future, ready to carve out my next path. What will it be? Only time will tell. But know this – my presence is eternal. I will never be far from your gaze. Remember that, if you have heard the whispers of my name and think I no longer exist. I see what many others don't think I see. I am always watching, always waiting. And when the time comes, you will know that I am still here, still a force to be reckoned with."
As the final words leave his lips, the clock tower bell begins to toll, its deep, resonant sound echoing through the village and the surrounding countryside. Glenn looks up at the clock tower, the tolling bell a solemn reminder of the passage of time.
"For whom the bell tolls," he whispers, his voice blending with the sound of the bell.
With a final, deep breath, Glenn turns back towards the cottage, his mind clear and his spirit renewed. The night is his ally, and in its embrace, he finds the strength to continue.
The scene fades to black, leaving an air of mystery and anticipation, the questions lingering in the minds of all who hear his words.
