I. The Third Day of Summer

Saturday, June 23 1:15am

So it’s the third day of summer and I decide it’s a good idea for me and my as-yet-insignificant self to start a written documentary of what I otherwise wouldn’t remember in a week. Is that a good thing? I have no idea, but nonetheless I begin my rant. As I struggled just now to decide what word to use there (as you may have noticed, I picked “rant”) to describe what very well may (or may not) resemble an angry tirade, one out of the endless? stream of word choices caught my mind’s eye: “withdrawal.” Perhaps just a byproduct of the God-knows-cuz-I-sure-don’t-how-many homeless thoughts bouncing about my head, I really like that word to describe what this is. A withdrawal, from my Inspiration Account of creativity. Overdraw and you get writer’s block. Maybe that’s why I chose to start this anonymously. I don’t want to write a check (because that’s exactly what becomes of publicizing something you’ve just started- insatiable expectations on everyone’s part) that I know will bounce.

As you may have noticed the discrepancy between the date atop this entry and the date of this blog post, I feel somewhat obliged to tell you, my dear reader, that I am in fact writing this by hand in a notebook in my room. Sorry, but the computer is significantly more conspicuous at 1:something A.M. Reading back over (say what you will, I want this to sound good- I have no shame) this has been a rather turbulent introduction, to say the least. I just decided to write, without pausing to think of structure (or even function), whatever my mind saw fit to tell me. As good an introduction as any to the outer workings of my brain (the inner workings will require some reading between the lines; I recommend it- if you analyze the first sentence of this entry you can get a rough estimate of my age and outlook on life- just saying) I think it’s probably better than any contrived, probably melodramatic, humbly-conceited Introduction I would have otherwise come up with.