It is one oh seven ante meridian, silence reclined lays a stilling hand on the desert valley and I miss my foggy home. Having called fore, left and below, Hypnos has departed trailing somnolent wake, passing by us nocturnalists here. So then, I am pattering around with grey tights on my legs and Peter Murphy in my ears, doing long neglected housework and feeding the rat-friend.
Brevity is...not my strong suit. I speak infrequently, but when I do, I tend to wax infinite, which vastly inhibits my ability to tell jokes or stay within narrow word counts. Nevertheless, I will try my darned bestest to keep my self introduction succinct and get to the real content.
Above is a snapshot of my life at this exact moment, and that is what I want this blog to be. This year I turn twenty-three. At that age, I am supposed to be a Person. I'm not sure if I'll be able to convey what I mean, but for whatever reason, twenty-three is a designator in my mind. That number is the start of real life, independence, adulthood...in essence, it's when I always imagined I would stop being defined by generic developmental labels (kid, teenager, college student, etc) and start being just...well, a person. I'd have a life, career and identity that was mine alone. An intimidating thought.
With that graduation impending, and a quarter of my life vorbei, I want to savor my pre-person life, look back on how I got here, and forward to what is to come. Right now, I feel as though all is autumn. I'm in a fall, a liminal period of change from the free summer of nonage to the next season of my life. This will be my journal, my photo album, my ledger and time capsule. Maybe this process will help me sort out my selfhood as a real person. At the very least, I hope to preserve my life in these moments so that I can cringe and smile and remember what it was like before the "now." This is for me...and for all of you who care to stop by and visit in this swell season.