Who am I? Why am I here?

Hi... :-)

If you are reading this, then by chance or by careful selection, you've ended up at my personal writing page.

If by chance - then I suggest you only stay if you desire intellectual expansion, intriguing thought and the like.

If by selection, you are one of the trusted few who I've chosen to send the link to this too, for you to read and think about.

So...who am I?

My description sums me up to an extent.

Human identity in itself as a concept intrigues me. Someone who is the centre of another's life can be absolutely no-one. Who am I to YOU? Maybe you know me as a good friend? Maybe you wouldn't have a clue. Maybe I matter deeply to you? And maybe you've never seen my face and never will.

Who knows? Maybe you've passed me in the street... ;-)

But I digress.

I've titled this blog after my one true, lasting and enduring passion. One that has been with me since as long as I can remember in my early childhood, and I'm absolutely sure, one that will remain until my last breath.

The sky. Flying. The combined freedom of the two.

The pure pleasure of solidarity and peace felt, cruising solo above the bonds and troubles of earth in a place where no one can touch you. In a sky that spans on seemingly forever - one in which you can set course and navigate to ANY corner of the globe.

The only pathway to the entire world.

My blog won't (just) be about my love of flight though. I've used that as a reference point because it is a key part of who I am - and my values, by extension.

Instead - my page will be a rambling, twisting, winding collection of thoughts.

Ruminations. Ideas. Concepts. Fantasies. Dreams. Hopes. Aspirations. Pleasures. Observations. Rememberances. Abstracts.

A friend of mine whom I once shared my thoughts with and whom has now diverged down her own path in life, (miss ya, Courtney. We had some awesome times) once observed that my thought patterns where like a lucid dream. A pipework world of ideas stretching on all over...linking up...breaking apart. Some strong. Some weak and passing. Some incomplete or forever winding.

Perhaps this will put some of my comments into perspective.

I'm different things to different people.

To some, a trusted confidant and close or best friend.

To others, an acquaintance.

To some, a listening-board.

To others, a man you could pass in the street and not notice anything remarkable about.

To others still, apparently intriguing.

But as I said right at my description - I'm just one of nearly seven billion stories world wide.