The Hokey Pokey

Right now, this is what the blog is all about. Or what I'm all about.  A little self-portrait, maybe.  I'm still working shit out, so you know, whatever. Someday it will get cut down when I get sick of reading and dissecting whatever I write.

As a rule, I usually don't try to describe myself, because whatever I claim will be wrong, unless I'm describing myself as "female" or "alive" which are both fucking spot-on. And I really want to give an accurate portrayal because, well, I'm obsessed with myself, and unsure of myself, which is probably why I have a blog in the first place. I can't write about anything else, and I have to write about something because words are so neat, and with them, like, the concept of language and the sound of it.

Movies are good. I wish I knew more about books and music.  I'm pretty sure the answers to every question are hidden within the patterns of pop culture, and the more connections I make, the more I think maybe, I kind of understand. 

Fate doesn't really do it for me. It all goes back to The Gods of Pegana.
In the mists before the Beginning, Fate and Chance cast lots to decide whose the Game should be...
which apparently had a profound effect on me, because I need to know which game I'm playing.  Until then, I pick chance.  But if chance weren't an option, we would never know about fate, and without fate there's no chance.

My dog rules but doesn't live with me, and that makes me hurt inside. I try hard not to ignore anyone because apathy does as much damage as hate, but sometimes I just can't help feeling that some bastards deserve it. If you believe your friends do not influence the decisions you make, then you're either an idiot or you have no friends.

When I know something, anything, I automatically assume that everyone else in the world knows it too. Otherwise I am undermining the knowledge of others, like I feel so many have done for me. But that usually leads to people going, "What the fuck are you talking about?" so I guess however I feel about my brain, I'm wrong.

So...if I'm connoting, should I link an outside source to further explain how this tesseract unravels into a cube? Sometimes I will. Sometimes, I think, innuendos are on an in-the-know basis. Sometimes, I think that geometrical allusions are far more important than people realize. And sometimes, I think that the mind is a tesseract, and metaphysics is where it's at.

I love science. I love religion even more. I believe in both, because they exist, and I believe in neither, because I'm neither scientific nor religious. I guess I believe in knowledge. And storytelling.

For the most part, I like people who tell a good story. In fact, I think it's really the only universal criteria I have to ascertain friendship. Screw loyalty, reliability, congruent personalities, trust, similar interests...that's all bullshit.  I want a grand nexus of faint metaphor and in-the-know-wit. I want shiny. I want the spirit of chuckles amidst the blood and the soul and the fists.

It's all a big fucking mess. I'm in the process of trying to sort it all out, and that, in the end, is what this blog, and everything I say or write, is about.

As if this wasn't long enough (I will edit that shit down someday, I swear to god) in case you want to hear more all about me because this blog's self-obsession didn't make you baff in your hand, email me here: