Much like life’s mysteries I have vowed to never tell the story of my existence. And that is exactly what I will continue to do. Too many people in my life, with too many secrets.
Most actors begin their careers as waiters in some resturaunt, most writers began creating fables in the classroom. I remember being asked by a number of classmates, “are you writing a story about your life?” No, I would always reply. Why would I do such a horrific thing?
I am not the star of the Tango show. I am merely a supporting charactor who drifts in out of people’s lives. Before I know it, I’m a recurring pest. I am not the spider on the web. Nor am I the prey wrapped in the delicious blanket. I am the web. Stuck in the middle of life happening right before my fugly face.
For the next life time, The WB is my attempt to share the stories of those I find inspiring. This space is a place for poets, and writers learning about giants and life. I may not be able to tell my semi-fascinating story but I vow to keep you entertained with the odd stories I have come across. The best cure for writer’s block is a wicked muse … I do hope this page will dish a filling spoonful.
