Where do I start, where do I end? Perhaps it really doesn't matter, because the story is not yet concluded. Why? Because I am still alive. I am still awake and, I am still writing.
Taking internal notes of all that goes on around me, and others --- I have not forgotten others. Some of them tweak the story, just so --- perfectly. Often my necessary pawns, kings, and knights, for the telling's of tales that would not had been very possible without them.
So, if I begin in the center that would be as natural to me, as if I had discussed what it was like, even before I was born.
To begin anyplace and make it look whole --- to where the fragments of our times, our lives, our experiences equal up to one complete journey of how we have lived, what we have seen and where we have been.
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