My imaginary friends

Over the years, I've made up more than a few fictional characters. Most of them have been inspired by other fictional characters, some of them are original - though even those ones are probably influenced by other works - they are all my imaginary friends. Not in the sense that I interact with them or that they have some effect on my life, but I think about their lives, and wonder what is going on with them. I wonder what has happened to them, and try to hammer out the details.
     Two Novembers ago I took part in Nanowrimo for the first time. The second time around I was much more successful. I created two new characters for that story, and since then they've been sitting around in my head. The final moments of that story burned into my inner eye. I've been wondering what happened next. What else happened in the time of the story that I wrote that I didn't write about. What parts did I miss? Who are these characters really? Who is Walter? Who is Blondie? What is next for them? Where are they going? What will they become? And again, who the hell are they?

     I got side tracked and lost my train of thought...

     There are other characters that I haven't written about anywhere too. I guess I'm worried that once I write about them I can't unwrite their story, but that's not entirely true. Hmmm...

Denial

     I think we are all in denial about something. I wonder at the things which I may be in denial about. We all like to believe that we are special, that we have some specific purpose, that we have some attribute that others do not posess. We long to feel that we have a meaning and that our lives have some ultimate goal.
     I'm beginning to accept the fact that this may not be true. Perhaps I've watched too many movies, played too many video games and listened to one too many stories, but I've always thought my life would turn out to be some amazing adventure. I'm 25 now, closer to 26 than I was yesterday, and now I'm closer to being 30 than I am to being 20. My life is still as boring as it was yesterday. Nothing amazing will happen to me tomorrow, not to say that I don't enjoy what things do happen, but I won't be encountering any alien robots, or help thwart some plot to destroy mankind as we know it. I'm just a plain human like you.
     I'm sure everyone goes through a point in life where they face their mortality and the mundane nature of their existence. I've faced my mortality a few times, once when I was almost too young to remember, once when I was a bit older in a river, and again later one when I was hit by a truck. Until now though, I've never really considered the fact that I might just be another peasant, another mortal.
     If I were to die tomorrow, what would I be remembered for? Being a son, a friend, being charming, riding a cool bicycle, and leaving a bunch of stuff for my friends to plunder. There wouldn't be anything for bards to sing of, no great deeds to pass on through the ages. I don't even have any children to carry on my absent legacy. No one even reads my blog.
     I'm not bitter about this, I'm simply stating facts. I don't know what it is that I will end up doing, but until now I've been in denial of the fact that I will die a feeble death some day, and the number of people that mourn my loss wouldn't fill a single theater auditorium.