By the time I finish my last sentence of this post, it may be tomorrow. The internet terrifies me to the point I convince myself that my laptop is actually a telescreen and a board of officials sit in some clandestine boardroom making notes on my foibles and gathering new material for their future attempts at small talk. But that is ridiculous. My webcam is their viewing portal, not my screen. So proper grammar and truthful sentences may take longer to produce than normal.
This is my third attempt to maintain a collection of work outside of the hidden pockets of my binder and beneath my mattress. Except this time I'm sharing and will make an earnest attempt to not forget my password by way of Freudian memory loss.
I feel both obligated and compelled to do this. I have to have a breathing example of my capabilities and I need a reason to compose so that maybe I'll drag myself out of the cesspit that has become every utterance and thought I've had lately. The first fifteen or five hundred posts will more than likely be born from my current inspiration which is my complete lack of inspiration. How delightful and um inspiring?