The Once Story

Well once upon a time, I guess. Once upon a time and there is the beginning of the existence of it, and all there is to it begins in its own clever system of starts and endings- it was the end of one and the beginning of another, and the process once more begins anew. Well it begins with the very thought, an idea that what was prior should not be, but should be its own death and one be made which would defy the falsities of its own existence. And that it just should be it, seeming blunderings with no meaning to us out here, perhaps there is another agenda to him that made it so…

And we wonder, for it is utterly unseemly, and uncomely to us casual bystanders; we watch with sharp interest- some real, others feigned, yet there’s the interest still. And we wonder what the substance of this should be, the essence of its creation, plainly why it should exist- we wonder. We ask questions, question ourselves, question another, question it- ‘What in heaven’s name are you?’ And we question still for we doubt the usefulness of it, or if it is fit for that which it was made for, or if there is any reason for it at all...

But in the long run and those questions should be asked still, cheers and taunts and harried screams, but it should continue in what it was made for, paying us no attention as it continues in its essence. Perhaps soon we would come to accept it for what it is, and cease to doubt but we should have a reason not to doubt so. Its goal lies in front and it pays us none attention still, for when its morning shall come, we would be left in the shadows pondering: what exactly happened? So fast it should happen that we should forget what it was, and marvel at what it is, like it was born today… Then, and only then, can it proudly say ‘Once upon a time…’