The 411

I’ve got big plans and even bigger dreams. But I’m stalling…have been for a while, only I’m not sure why anymore? It's in my head. I’m intelligent, thoughtful, sensitive, stubborn, a loner. But I’m also unsure. I can be quite charming and funny…but I don’t control the switch. I lack the type of self-confidence that results in a fine, streamlined exterior, but inside…I’m the Aura Borealis. At gatherings I’m usually shy and uncomfortable. I cannot mingle and I don’t know where my pack is. I’m a very good judge of character…if I think your cool, I’ll let you know about it. I see through the bullshit. I don’t like games, but I’ll play if I think she’s worth it...(come on, who wouldn't???) I like fleece coats, ‘double’ socks and long johns. Comfort over Style…unless it’s demanded. I think my taste (or lack thereof) in footwear is my Achilles Heel. I clean up nice…but you really have to twist my arm (or ask me nicely). I enjoy sports, but not as much as I used too. R.A.D. (Retired Athlete Disorder). I’m loyal, some would say to a fault, but I am what I am, and if I like something, it takes a lot to change my mind. There isn’t a lot I ‘hate’, cause hate burns, but there is plenty I dislike. I like writing nonsense to keep my typing skills and wit sharp, but I also like to use words to connect on a level that I can’t using the ones that come out of my mouth (which is terribly ironic if you know my surname). I might be lazy…but I don’t want to be. Sometimes I hide behind odd metaphors and clichés…attempting to paint a prettier picture of myself...or a murkier one, but the truth invariably finds a way to shine through. I’m a minor disappointment to my family, a strange bird, a black sheep…but they still love me in their own way. I mean well and most people I’ve come across on my journey seem to have good things to say about me despite the cloud that hovers above. Depending on what I'm doing, I fuel up on Jack Kerouac, Edgar Allen Poe and Dr. H.S. Thompson...Vincent Van Gogh and Andy Warhol...or Stanley Kubrick. Despite the porcupine quills, I’m a softie. The good news is, I’ve still got time…we all do...


...we just don't know how much...