As I Prepare

My journey through Dubliners is coming to a close. I sit and ponder the days I spent, floored by Joyce and his portrayal of his folk and country. Those days were dark, as were his words. I felt dark with the book in my hands. Although the pages were few, the weight was heavy; I never knew such a weary world.

I aspire to read Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man next. Where after I will let the fates decide. I never had any qualms with those three ladies. Nor have I argument with the nine muses. Let them show me a world of woe, passions, suffering, and all the goings on of days gone by.