I’m an adventurer. Or, I want to be.

I’m not sure how the rest of the world is doing. I’ll assume about the same as it was the last time I checked. In desperate need of saving from itself with the possibility that things were going to get much worse before they got better. Because, that’s pretty much true.

I’ve been thinking. Dangerous, I know, but thoughts pop in and if I don’t pay they any attention they become ravenous eating other, possibly better ideas. So, I look at them, consider them and then I get off onto tangents. This, in case you were wondering, is a tangent. A large, never-ending (it will end) tangent fueled by pizza for breakfast and spending a touch too much time playing Dragon Age.

That last bit, that might become evident in a moment.

See, what I’ve been thinking is that the world would be a much better place if you could in fact make your fortune from adventuring. Certainly there are types of adventures to still be had, but I mean more of the save the world from some sort of impending doom (real doom mind you) with sword and shield and some skills. Maybe a little magic, or something resembling magic. Then, maybe, it wouldn’t matter as much where you came from as what you could do.

I know it would mean the destruction of society as we know it. I’m trying to find the downside. Really, there isn’t one, not when you’ve spent your whole life at the bottom. And certainly there’d be a scramble to fill whatever power vacuum was created. But, once the dust settled, it would be cool.

And, while I have thought about this a lot, I haven’t exactly thought out the repercussions. There’s some small part of my mind that knows it’s a bad plan. That’s why I’m a writer. I can make it not a bad plan. Things turn out all right… for most people… for the important people. Eventually.

I know what  it is, really, I missed my time. Or haven’t quite gotten to it yet. Hard to say. I just know that the moment I’m in feels rather paltry compared to what it could be. So, I suppose I’ll just go on writing in hopes that someday I’ll get to carry around a sword to slay something horrible. Like an arch demon or something. That’d be cool. Until the death starts. Then, not as cool.

I suppose I’ve gone on long enough with trivial things. I’ll find something constructive to do. Maybe finish the rewrite on this short story before I get into something else. It’s almost done. A solid hour will finish it. Just need to actually sit down and write instead of fidget and bounce about.

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