nny: (Found a flower)
[personal profile] nny
I want to find my Thing.

I suspect my Thing will occur to me with time. I'll come across it, somehow. Something will grab me by tweed lapels and shake me and say DAMMIT I AM YOUR THING. And then I won't be able to rest until I've found out everything possible about it. Possibly I will be moved to tears by it. I'll sit and work out arguments about it, and discuss it endlessly and articulately and with a ridiculous knowledge base because it will be my Thing.

I'll have books and books about my Thing. Entire shelves, possibly. And my Thing will affect, just a little, everything I write. It'll creep in at the edges of stories; possibly not noticeably to anyone who doesn't know just as much about it, but it'll be there. My Thing will colour everything that I think, put a special spin on the world, make everything make a little more sense.

People will know it, too. They'll know that if they need to find out anything about it I'll either know or I'll know where to find it. Ah, they'll say. Nny's the person to ask. It's her Thing. And it won't be because I want to appear clever or because I want to impress, not at all. It'll just be because it's my Thing.

Someday I'll find my Thing. I just don't know quite how to look for it yet.




(And just now I can't bring myself to mind. Still smiling.)
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