Defining more of the path of the legend (reflections in parallel)

“....I mean, my writing that I put in my blog is a kind of mirror to these more personal thoughts that I record here. The public one I am less likely to delete as the public one protects me in anonymity with its guise of fiction. I can use allegory to support those things that allow me to take another breath and suppose in the strength of the universe some balm of humane understanding as if what I say actually matters, as if my words fall upon some mind out there who may connect with just one tiny aspect to understand.... even just to fool myself, really; it lets me breathe at least another breath.... The purpose is the same though, both in the public and private ones. It is about the search for why I am here; the search for meaning —why anyone is here, I guess, as well

I mean, not everyone is intended for greatness or fame or notoriety. We may argue that some lives are pointless and many attest that all lives matter; all are special, etc, etc

I guess I am not fully convinced; I question this, especially in relation to myself. 

So let us then say that all lives are necessary and all are special even if they are not intended for greatness but to be that cog in the machine .... (the cow, the pig, the chicken, the fish, the ant, the oak tree?)

So what does that mean to me? And what does that mean to my project? 

Does it stop after my trilogy is complete? What does the trilogy signify in relation to what it intends to define?

....I mean, ‘Beth who is what’ was another exploration which reflected a similar diary at the time .... that I suppose I outgrew as that Bran who stood for someone at the time and, like that life ....fell away ....was part of why it did because —did I define that “What” I was searching to find? That ‘bastard “What” that I am’— having now learned to be resigned in: ‘whatever, this is me; take it or leave it’

Has it even dawned on me—(we become our names)Jung and his archetypes and synchronicities .... no, I still search and my medium seems to be whatever my mood of expression happens to require, and I don’t really think it has ever been my choice, just my mission or cog in the wheel which forces these words, these paintings, these thoughts that grips the hand to grab the brush or the pencil or keyboard .... it won’t shut up.... I start to feel that the trilogy is only the introduction to .... 

where it is telling the legend to follow.... but I have not yet reached that Paradiso; the pinnacle of what that high path has been pulling this level of levels along so, really, how can I yet know where it leads?”

(as I sometimes do keep a private journal, I’m not nearly as faithful to it as ‘the dictionary’ as it has twice been my history to have it discovered and used against me; this is why hiding my meanings in fiction is much more reliable)