The · Fool

Lifted shamelessly from Wikipedia, because it's pretty:

With light step, as if earth and its trammels had little power to restrain him, a young man in gorgeous vestments pauses at the brink of a precipice among the great heights of the world; he surveys the blue distance before him-its expanse of sky rather than the prospect below. His act of eager walking is still indicated, though he is stationary at the given moment; his dog is still bounding. The edge which opens on the depth has no terror; it is as if angels were waiting to uphold him, if it came about that he leaped from the height. His countenance is full of intelligence and expectant dream. He has a rose in one hand and in the other a costly wand, from which depends over his right shoulder a wallet curiously embroidered. He is a prince of the other world on his travels through this one-all amidst the morning glory, in the keen air. The sun, which shines behind him, knows whence he came, whither he is going, and how he will return by another path after many days.

I'm not a young man, much less a prince of any kind; nor have I ever had anyone tell me my countenance is full of intelligence and expectant dream, nor do I make a habit of standing thoughtfully and dreamily on cliff edges.

Nonetheless, the Fool is the tarot card I've always felt the most personal resonance with, and I find it especially relevant to the purpose for which I'm making this journal. I'm setting out on a journey, in a way, but I've got no particular destination in mind. I'm going to ask questions, I'm going to do my best to keep an open mind, I'm going to try and leave my inhibitions behind.

If you know me from my other journal, I'm looking, for now at least, to keep that one seperate from this. The name I use elsewhere will not be used publicly here.

I've never really had an alter-ego to this extent before. It's already a little exciting and emboldening, and, at the same time, a little paranoia-inducing. Here's hoping I don't muck things up.