The Rambling Introduction That Serves No Purpose

     At the risk of sounding cliche, hello to all who may be reading this. I have no idea who you are just as you have no idea who I am. But the difference between us is this; I am going to be treating this as a one sided conversation. This will essentially be a typed, inflection-less dramatic monologue. Mostly. Other times it's going to be whatever crosses my mind whenever I happen to be typing. At least, that is what I am going to take it as. You on the other hand can take this for whatever you wish it to be. You can relentlessly mock my writing style, tirelessly ridicule the things I profess to believe (though how would you know whether I believe them or not?) and even try to be helpful and constructive in your dialogue. Not that I expect you all to fulfill such a role when I myself have only ever been vaguely tempted to comment on any content I've viewed on the web or even in real life a handful of times.

     Why am I telling you all this? Because at the heart of myself I am a wallflower. A garden variety pine tree. Something that never really reflects what is around it on the surface but stands in mute testament to the shifting seasons and sweeping sands of time that pass it by. It does not encompass me and I do not expect it ever truly will. But at this very moment in time, it is the closest I can come to an accurate description.
   
     And as I have gone through these years, I've discovered that I both crave and am repulsed by most other people. I want other people to see me, to talk to me, to know that I am alive and that I exist upon this spinning ball of dust that we call a planet. But at the same time, most people confound me. When they see me, they make instant judgements about me based upon any number of factors that are never quite the same person to person. Anyone with a basic understanding of ethics is probably laughing at me and saying that the Problem of Measurements is something that has existed for as long as humans have tried to qualify quantities. (Or is it quantify qualities?) For every ten pounds over what is deemed the limit (to you anyway), append your own judgement as to relative laziness and self-respect level. For every ten pounds under what is deemed the limit (to you anyway), append your own assumptions about relative peppiness and energy level.

     The problem of it all is that the world does not operate on getting things right. The world operates on getting things close enough. Not inspired to take that first pen to paper? Just jot something down regardless of how much it hurts your heart and your mind to commit something that you weren't that thrilled about in the first place. Not inspired to take that first step toward true maturity (whatever that may be)? Just take the first stumbling gait toward its general direction, never mind that everyone and their mother will criticize and nitpick every moment of it and then wonder why you're so reluctant to ask their advice more often.

     But that is the point of this blog. It is a place away from the "real world" where problems, solutions, pitfalls and triumphs can be reduced to typed words on a screen for whomever has the will or the boredom to find it here. They may indeed interact with it, helping to write the stories as they come along. Or they may passively watch it unfold, treating each episode as it is: primarily stand-alone material with only tangential relation to anything else that may be placed with it.

     Or they could just read something else. That too.