Alight the fires of Spring
"It's strange," quoth the non-random opening line generator. "It's all so very strange." The emotions of my life have followed queer courses throughout the years, uncommon channels carved in the stone and clay walls of consciousness. But even within the Strange there is that which is strange, that which does not abide the patterns 'midst the over-patterned chaos.
Me and Time have never been close friends, and so I cannot state with the utmost precision when it all began, or more rather, when it all did end. So too, me and Memory have been distant associates all to often, and so I fear myself unable to rely on her wise counsel to discern that fated moment. And yet, unspoken, there lies perhaps the knowledge of that seed from which now years later withers the fearsome bloom I dance so merrily 'round as outwards raises the storm of indiscretion.
( Whereupon the furtherance of uttering )