I’ve always rejected being understood. To be understood is to prostitute oneself. I prefer to be taken seriously for what I’m not, remaining humanly unknown, with naturalness and all due respect.
Author: Fernando Pessoa
Why would you want to know who I am? The face behind the screen, the fingers dancing across the keys, the heart from which these words flow–what business do you have with me? We all interact through the clever mask which the internet provides. We all place a hollow trust in one’s profile image while choosing the best for our own. So what’s the point? Are you here to judge, deride, point, laugh, comment, or just curious?
My words are the only evidence many of you will have that I exist. You may hear my soft voice through a poem, see my warming smile through an encouraging comment, or feel the warm tears I shed for humanity.
To prove my humanity: I like hot-pockets, Dr. Pepper, Adam Lambert, Doctor Who, and rainy days. Where I go my tablet goeth. Cut me open and I will bleed music. Crimson is my favorite color.