There is just something about mystery that gets me going. It could be a small thing as “Oh why is she crying?” or a big thing as, ” There was a murder yesterday, and the prime suspect and the situation is printed in the newspaper,” I am there and my little grey cells are already set in motion.
I think this goes back to the time when I was a young’un. There was a robbery in the neighborhood, and I had just started reading this series called “Five Findouters and A Dog” (officially called “The Mystery Series”, one of my top favorites Childhood books). So, this opportunity to solve a mystery by myself got me excited, I couldn’t keep still. Of course, I did not have a special team, there was just me, myself, and I. Alone.
That aspect of my soon-to-be adventure did not make me sad for long, I was about to go check out the scene of the crime by myself, when suddenly my dear mother pulled me back and said, “It is dangerous.”
Just kidding. Well she did say that and she did not let me go. Instead she told me to “Go read a book, let’s see if you can solve the mysteries that already have an ending.”
And, as you can tell by the witty nature of my writing (I hope I am witty…a person can dream) and my self-proclaimed love for mysteries, that is exactly what I did. I hit the books, well, I hit all the detective books I could lay my hands on. I started my own collection of detective books, Hercule Poirot, Sherlock Holmes, you name it, I probably have it in some shape or form.
And, soon I started solving the mysteries before the detectives in the book themselves. After I would figure out the criminal, I would be so happy with myself. I even broke into my “I am so amazing” dance, which, by the way, is pretty dang great.
So, anyway, the point of this whole blog is to dissect my love for mysteries. I guess figuring out the unknown and the uncertain by linking in evidence is something that makes me excited, just like when a person finds a pot of gold, which actually turned out to be a pot of chocolate and other heavenly delights, under their bed. Man, wouldn’t that be something, and the euphoria I get through mysteries is almost equal to that analogy…I said almost..I could die a happy person if I found that underneath my bed.
Or, I might just be an arrogant prick who likes to showcase intelligence. You take your pick Void.
As always, my thoughts are with you.