I pretend I'm a writer when I'm not pretending I'm a rockstar. Both of these things may or may not take place in front of the bathroom mirror.
You probably have no idea what my posts are about, and that's the way I like it. True art fails to yield to analysis.
Self-indulgent biography, attempt at humor, pseudo-intellectual Nietzsche quote, etc. etc. etc.
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Tracking the Tempest: In Honest Utterance, I Stole Away the Air
Article A: Setting Up the Scenery
Upon arrival and in preparation for departure, I whispered a plea for reciprocated affection. [I didn’t expect you to meet me halfway on this road.] Navigation features cut out from the second I pulled onto the highway and I just so happened to find you hitchhiking… you looked so beautiful there, waving down traffic, but I couldn’t let you stand out in the rain. We’re past that now, and it’s been what feels like two and a half centuries since I’ve felt such comfortable companionship.
Article B: It’s Kind of a Sensitive Topic
Damaged and raveled in a dilapidated capsule, our emotions practicing domination, I wrestled the road for your undivided attention. Your presence commands divine knowledge; you deserved to know which walls you’d knocked down. I’m not even calling in the crew for renovation, that structure was pleading for swift demolition. You make an adorable wrecking ball.
Article C: 143 A.D.
This is where I found my heart beating again, despite all previous claims. The truth is, I couldn’t sleep another night with this secret warming my sheets and burning me in my dreams [as well as those in which you accepted my offer.] Prayers for a mutual answer were met with the grace of a foreign god… I’m so glad you feel that way. I told you what I think, kid. [This is the best idea we’ve ever had.]
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