Friday, November 15, 2013


The thing that prevents me from writing blog posts (and poems and stories and plays and essays) is that I never know how to start. The beginning is the worst. The end is fine because you can just fall back on, "And then the alarm clock went off and it was all a dream!" But seriously, the first sentence and the first paragraph and the first page and the first chapter are painstaking. Don't ever become a writer. Don't ever subject yourself to such constant self-doubt and dissatisfaction.

Phew! Now that I've officially (not necessarily successfully) gotten the beginning of this post out of the way, I can dive into the MEAT of my post. I come to you today with no real agenda except to write whatever appears in my mind so that I can prove my existence by having you read my words. Funny thing is, though, is that I am the one that creates myself, which creates you, which means that I am creating everything surrounding me constantly. I am about to go disprove physics and walk on some water, okay? See you in a minute.

I'm back from my failed attempt at walking on water! And now for my brain vomit.

Mean/shock humor is never funny and never will be. I see too much of it online and for whatever reason, some of it has been aimed at me by crappy dudes I barely know. I pretty much have zero tolerance for that kind of "humor." I have no regrets ridding you from my life if you feel it necessary to constantly put people down. May you find a less boring way to fill your day.

Women. All of the time. You are wonderful in myriad ways.

I am becoming more and more "sure" of who I am. I mean, as I said earlier, I am constantly creating myself, so maybe there is no surety because it's all fluidity. As of this moment, I am a curious secular absurdist who likes the idea of top hats and the taste of cotton. Seriously, chewing on a washcloth that is straight out of the dryer is divine.

I'd rather be a candle than a match.

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