I owe you an apology for my first few posts, allow me to set the record straight.
Writing for no one has been my one and only outlet since, damn, the fifth grade? It is my meditation, my introspection, my existential crisis brought to some distant clarity. So forgive the drama and the shitty writing. This is me, writing for my own gain, and hopefully I will grow the balls to share it with someone who will welcome the blips of teenage-style angst that boil over sometimes.
I hope to dive into less emotional things soon, but right now this is where I am at.
I work three jobs. At my primary job I deal with death in a very first-person way about once a month, and illness every single day. In my second job I check out 100% and perform mindless tasks in construction. And finally I work on cars, which indulges my OCD in a special kind of way, allowing me to be alone without being isolated.
You know I was raised as a radical Christian, and that my marriage is quickly disintegrating. You know I’ve got a secretly dramatic side. You know I’m (probably) a mid-twenties dude, and you know I’m running on fumes. What don’t you know? Mmm, confession time. Let’s talk sex! Next time….Red Riding Hood it home.