And here I am, still alive, still in the world. It’s my intention to carry on being alive in the world, well, until I die. At Easter I’ll go to Glasgow and see what science fiction fandom is like. Next June I’ll take my exams and pass them, and have qualifications. Then I’ll do A Levels, as it best works out. I’ll go to university. I’ll live, and read, and have friends, a karass, people to talk to. I’ll grow and change and be myself. I’ll belong to libraries wherever I go. Maybe eventually I’ll belong to libraries on other planets. I’ll speak to fairies as I see them and do magic as it comes my way and prevents harm — I’m not going to forget anything. But I won’t use it to cheat or to make my life unreal or go against the pattern. Things will happen that I can’t imagine. I’ll change and grow into a futre that will be unimaginably different from the past. I’ll be alive. I’ll be me. I’ll be reading my book. I’ll never drown my books or break my staff. I’ll learn while I live. Eventually, I’ll come to death, and die and I’ll go on through whatever unknowable thing is supposed to happen to peole when they die. I’ll die and rot and return my cells to life, in the pattern, whatever planet I happen to be on at the time.
That’s what life is, and how I intend to live it.
I’ve been coming back to this passage since I read it on the train last month. I’m going to see if I can journal a similar plan for myself, similarly hopeful and realistic, but geared to my more advanced age. What would yours say?
Picture found here.