Though Seeing...

Can hardly see past the headaches... Can hardly think past my nose... my monitor has my brain in its vice...

If it is spectacles... then what then? What after the donning?

Would the world come to find me a bluer, greener glory? Would the QWERTY revolution be rediscovered? I wonder... in a hammering suspense. Gritted teeth behind squinted eyes.

He wakes up... Day One of the Rebrand. He is no longer gonna be '24 hours of... whatever', but instead '24hOuRs of nON-sTop WhaTEvEr!!!'

Day Twelve of the Rebrand. He sits up in bed. His life is a whirlpool. He can't understand how it all changed so quick... Right from Day One. He wants to shrug and go 'Whatever'. He can't.

The problem with associating outside of the sphere of isolation is he always winds up with a threaded needle running through hopes and hearts of the monotoned crowd of the hopefuls. A little tug and the tears run. A little too much stillness and they creep closer, till they are on the needle impaled.

He sighs. 'What now, fellow, conspirators in the rebrand?'

He is tired of being Monos, the bringer of pain, oft in the arms of Melpomene. Yet, he sees no escape, he must either fulfill his demi-god responsibility in dark rich laughter, or withdraw from the rebrand... from the circles that reach out to him... back into himself... back into solitude, silence, misery. From where he bring no pain, no heart break... so he thinks

Prologue

21/06/10

SAID THE WRITER OF HIS FIRST BLOG:

Need a chalkboard for my thoughts. I guess that's all this is really about. A bit of venting for this this one fella about... whatever... My expression spot for just about anything... Movies (don't get started), Dating & Marriage (Really, don't get me started), the followers of the great doctrine called Life cycle (recycled social retards... we'll get there), my search for meaning on the revolving blue-green marble, my walk with God, my life...

Hmmmmm

Life... hmmmm... whatever. Oh no!, you say, another of them depressed writers, gonna sap the joy right of the living for the reader, you think. Actually, that's far from my intention (do alert me if there's so much as a whiff of that creeping in... really). Nah, I wanna play play play... I wanna be the person I cant be in real life everytime I type a blog... a warped, not-too-dark-but-somewhat-twisted, point-of-view of the times of Shawlaa Mossrow, past, present, and... future is too much isn't it? Dont wanna metaphorsize into an Aspiring-Super-Shaw (yup, that spells 'Ass'). You know, blabbing on and on about how I wanna do blah blah, and I am gonna do blah blah, and then will get around to doing blurblurblurb. Don't get me wrong; nothing's wrong with aspiration, just not the same old boiling fart in the stratos, y'know. I'm gonna finally get around to quitting my job and making it big in movies. Yay!

Yeah.

Here's the deal, if I actually do it, I'll blog it. So, unless it's some juicy jeeeeeeuuuuuuuicy stuff... like...<scrambled to protect the innocent> Yeah, I'll drop some o'that. Oh joy!

Okay, prologue done... Here we go. I'm a blogger now