Howdy, hello, dobreutra, hi, and yo y'all,
I sincerely welcome and, albeit inadvertently, cordially invite you and I, being our actual physical, bodily eyes, to this thing, being a blog for online storage of work already written and stream-of-conscious, that I've never considered creating until, say, no more than ten minutes ago. Yet, thanks to a little arachnid spinning a small story on the web and little luck finding such inspiration, here I lay writing.
Now, this isn't me. I never liked blogging. Notebooking is better, more traditional and handwriting is better for the soul somehow.
Honestly, the content found forthcoming will neither consist my physical body nor psychological brain's beliefs, but mere perusal and purge.
I hope. Maybe I'll break that vow, but I'll declare, yes! a declaration;
I'm a liar and, I warn you, don't believe anything you read. Think of this as a television show, it's not real and it's terrible. It's smut, and if you refrain from continuing forth then you'll seldom find something rewarding within these meager and easily misinterpreted words, unless of course you return to your favorite program.
Goddamn! I can't help but think that people have already lost faith in me. Too bad.
Suppose I should tell the people a little about my day, a day that's spanned a whopping fifteen minutes. Oh right! It's New Year's morning, Tuesday. Before it was New Year's Eve which was more substantive. I woke up far too early, around eleven I think. There's no clock in my room, which actually isn't my room because it's the guest room in my parents house which I hadn't been to until the 17th of December two weeks ago, and I have no reason to pick up my cellular phone because no one contacts me on it anyways. Not even one mass text received exclaiming "happy new year!!!" Fortunately that doesn't bother me, not yet. Loneliness is preventable. I've learned to become immune to it. Stoicism is quite the mind state. Just don't take it too far because you'll become as interesting as marble. Perhaps some emotion will onset in a decade or so or more. Maybe not. Who knows?
Anyways, here I am alone in Texas, the state in which I was born, with none but my family. Hell, we were golfing nine holes twelve hours back. I'm astonished that Texas in winter is warmer than Alaska in summer. Too bad it was raining, and I didn't want to go eighteen. I'll never understand why my dad and brother don't like it when I say, "It's not golf season." Then, in three days, I'll be back in Montana playing hockey in less than a week.
Anyways, we left the course to get some beer. I'm less than 150 pages from finishing my book, Mythology by Edith Hamilton, and as we approach the local store, Spec's, there's a Half-Price bookstore and I simply must go in. I do and it's great, the best store I've been to in the south since apparently we went to the same store in Dallas some six to sixteen years back to buy CDs! I buy several titles: Ulysses by James Joyce, Heart of Darkness by Conrad, a Dover collection of Great Love Poems, some Greek play, Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, and a selection of English folklore idylls; all for about 13 bucks. I'm definitely going back before Thursday! Then we went home, I read a little more of my book of over-simplified myths until getting back home. Then I started writing, again!, a play I've been working on since last December, 2011, which I feel I'll never finish. I'm working with too much retrogression. It's a play I plan to adapt into a short film. Then I can begin my Capstone project for my final semester of college.
Lastly, I prompt a promise: I will not contribute another word to this cloud of parchment until I complete that play.
See you when I write you.
