Whenever the synapses of my brain cross, letting off sparks, I try to capture those bright bursts and put them here. Often a tangled mess, I wind my way through the trenches of my gray matter, and the sludge dug up by these journeys are slung like so much debris onto the internet.
I write what I want to read. I create what does not exist… or what should exist uses me to become. Either way it ends up here, dripping down my spinal cord and bleeding out my fingers tip-tap-typing.
of most any genre and topic. I sometimes feel like the synapses in my brain travel at highway speeds, zipping up and down in gushes and rushes of information. I hope to school them into order, like slots in a parking lot, and let them sleep. It is here I put them to rest.