December 29th, 2003


(no subject)

My family has a far more interesting history than I previously imagined.

The sins of the father pass to the son...and the grandson...and the great-grandson. The murderer becomes the victim. The rich man, the slave. Mothers fall apart, and children fall down. "I am Beloved and she is mine."

I am the eternal conflict of opposites, fire and ice. My mother is fire; my father, ice. What do you get when you mix fire and ice? Water. Free-flowing, transitory and constant, moving and stationary, always changing, yet always staying the same. Three generations' silent cries of anguish are heard by voices that know no pain.

I, like all others, am a child of destiny. I am the final product of hundreds of generations, the crowning glory of my fathers and forefathers until it is my turn to pass it to the next in line. My life is the culminative gift of my ancestors, the final testament to their memory. I hope I use it well.