Let Us Begin.
If you know me, you know I like to try and greenly connect words together. If you don’t know me, please picture a semi-civilized history professor with an uncanny resemblance to a young Mick Jagger, typing to you from his faux leather wingback chair.
My problem hasn’t been about desire or gumption — it’s always been about the platform. I don’t necessarily want to read a book of faces. Or to be mind-controlled by a face of books.
Then there was the place where everyone tumbled around. I believe they’re still set on tumble. But all I saw were gifs and memes. And I don’t even know what those are.
So here I am. Humble, semi-normal, bruised and sleepless. All I ever wanted to do was to greenly connected words together that might mean something to someone else. Maybe I even wanted to sing some of those words, too.
Because that’s the only way I know how to truly hug.
I’m going downstairs to make excessively strong coffee. I would ask you to join me, but it gets dangerous when I intermix boiling water and caffeine. Wicked dangerous.
Yes. m.