If You Could Change One Thing

Introduction
Primed with the power of prose, Rote Writer will propose to parley a literary journey unequalled since the time of Beowulf.
Letters will long to belong in words. They will be scripted to structure sentences in such style; they'll render the reader into a savoury state. Any or all culinary cuisine will come to mind with the words found in kind.
Soaked in such a sauté of sound, each brush blended beautifully shall make each piece of paper, page, or leaf turned-a task of titillating tenure.
To hope, to wish, to pray, would be misleading when all hopes, all wishes, and all prayers are met continuously in a never-ending crescendo of climaxes.
Cleverly and conspicuously coined terms will endear each ear near to a tear-like a light rain shower to empower word power, hearts will be warmed.
Ta, to tout without doubt such a soluble sale, surely sells certainty in finger tips touching and turning each page. Ya, eyes will shine brighter and clearer with each word read.
Olla, it's time to begin the dinned debut, panned like Pan's flute into a world of words woven into a web of worldly notions and potable potent potions.
To tell the tale… well, the sell or sale may pale in comparison with the composition, as there may be a let down from the billing, though highly unlikely. So, without further ado let's introduce you to Me, Myself, and I.
"Oh my, how do you do, pleased to meet you, and you!"
Pleasantries over with, let's begin by breaking down being into nothingness. The breath of being Me, is inherently instinctive and incorrigible to say the least. Consisting of bodily urges and grunt responses. With anything but a broad bearing on being; it will have little way in intellectual matters-but as a fair warning, Me is mired in ire, the sire of my fire... forget Me not.
Now I, supersedes as in precedes and concedes all physical demands with knowledge. Knowledge, motions Me to think, as in, therefore I am.
A note to mention at this point concerning the relationship with Me and I; the older a person, the more likely the function of I becomes prevalent and pervasive in most matters. However, some urges under the noblest notions tend to obliterate the I and Me takes over. Though I manages and maintains matters of the mind for the most part, and attempts to reason with the idea of self.
Myself, the most hallowed hall of being encompasses all that embodies perfection. This appearance or view of self is often befuddled and muddled in the mire of everyday life. Veiled in illusions of former, developed, or learned images of Self; Me and I often are left wondering what to do.
Well, this is where Me and I begin to listen to this mothered in nature named Insight. Some know Her as Intuition. Some see Her as the Sixth Sense. However you may call Her, She's all right with Me, Myself and I.
Lo, this Insight if well harnessed will in liberty lead a life truly and freely in a direction not known; but as Me, Myself and I find out-filled with adventure.
The adventure begins as the autopsy of being ends...
Chapter 1
Like a jingle giving him a terrible tingle, the single fact about the awful act is there's no way to detract or retract from it-he's unable to undo what's done. He thinks if going back in time gave the traveller the ability to avoid an act then all that follows in regards to the fact will no longer be intact. Timmy thinks about this a lot, and really wishes that if he can change one thing in his life, it's this. So many bad things happen after the fact and it all stems from that one act.
A Memoir - A Trilogy; Part I: If you could change one thing; Part II: Bind Nothing; Part III: Closure