I’m (ALWAYS) A WIZARD

I am a wizard 

because, in me, I’ve discovered a secret. 

Would you like me to tell you what it is? 

I don’t mind, really. 

Where’s the fun in having secrets that never occasionally just slip?

The secret is this: 

There are many worlds. Beyond this physical one. And I can perceive them.

Hell, if I wanted to, I could even… create them. 

That’s right. Entire worlds. Poof. Just like that. 

Out of thin air. 

Ho ho ho, I see you are enticed! 

Now I have you. Come! Sit and I will tell you how it was that I came to be a wizard. To possess such other-worldly powers.

You see that part is easy. And it is hard. 

And it is everything. 

That part is neither found at the beginning, nor at the end, it is all- in between.

Bah! I hear you say, just like a wizard,

Always speaking in riddles.

Well, yes. 

Life is often a riddle. 

The sort a bright, but ill-mannered child poses to his peers, if only to put himself above them, all the while desperately seeking their approval. 

Ah, I’m sorry.  Another riddle.

I just mean, it’s for you to figure out. All on your own.

And is there not something to be said about a riddle that stumps, that overreaches, past all we can directly see. And the pride one feels upon its solving?

Or the void and emptiness of a revelation, a clue, not rightly earned, helped, or cheated to?

I mean, who doesn’t feel good when they solve a particularly difficult riddle. 

That pride, eh? That smugness. 

Oh yes, yes. 

Wizards are smug.

After all, that is a wizard’s greatest weapon: the capacity for abstract thought. Second only to how he rises at any opportunity to demonstrate it.

 And we’ll be the first to tell you, too. So as to disarm you, put you at ease. 

We solve the riddle before you do. 

But in the interest of our ego and self-preservation, we’ll tell you the answer too. 

But always, quite smugly. 

We’ll use a lot of big words, you know, make you work for it a little.

After all, it was we who solved the riddle. And in doing so, we convinced you of the answer. What does it matter then, that it wasn’t to any question you yourself posed. 

Yes. Yes. 

We wizards… We can be dark. 

And mischievous.

Sometimes, if we feel rightly enough in our anger and secure enough in our power…

We can be wrathful.

But often we are merely meek and bookish. For how could you ask of a wizard both a keen mind and a hardy constitution?

It would be a veritable feast of egoic madness. 

And lest we turn to the darker arts, where would we even find the time for both?

So it is thus, that whenever I must retreat into those other worlds, all of my own making or join others within theirs, I’m always a wizard.

They’re more fun.