That Merry Wanderer walks among us. They have been known to walk through cities: cities of love, and cities of wind. You pass by them in the subway, in the park, or waiting in line. They are a deviant and bookish adventurer who has a great admiration for sapphire. Maybe someday you will see their collection of gems. There are many. The sapphire wasn’t always sapphire.
Some days That Merry Wanderer sheds blood. Never intentional, but it has been known to happen. And so the wanderings of ancestors spread with every drop. The olive and wine ancestors, the ancestors who traveled by ship to claim land that was not theirs, the ancestors who traveled by fear with bread that was not finished, and lamps that would not go out.
Today That Merry Wanderer discovers universes. Knowledge that has always been shared time and time again, but still some people are thirsty to hear. Selves that have rarely seen the light of day and yet know themselves in the dark. Possible worlds with untapped stories, sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter, always originating from trees planted by past wanderers.
This is a place for That Merry Wanderer to wander and ponder, take a gander and meander, explore and more with the written word. There will be poems, essays, monologues, and other short writing pieces, covering topics like social justice, intersectional feminism (from someone with white privilege), math, religion, theatre, autism, fantasy, media, entertainment, and probably more.
Thou speakest aright. I am that merry wanderer of the night.