I've always known that I was going to write about Boy, my dad, not out of love or hate or the usual father-son motivations, though in fact these are ever present, but because he did seem to have lived his life so that I may write about it. It was some kind of a deal between me and him I think. Or perhaps now that I consider it it is because a writer must write about what he knows and my case is no exception. I already said that I've always known that I was going to write about Boy. How I have come to that knowledge I am not sure, but maybe in the course of this activity it will become more recognizable or at least less mysterious to me.

Already it is becoming difficult to form the story, where to start, how to tell it, how much to tell. For sure the telling will be fragmentary, quite fictional, inventive and prone to jumps in narrative. Should I start from what I know or remember, or should I attempt at least to manage to tell a normal story? Alright then, I will simply allow the archeology of this story to begin, for I too am part of this story and the writing is to occur in the flow of time, as does Boy's story.