Well, I’m suffering from writers block. All that really means is that I’ve decided to bother all you loveable readers on WordPress. Now while I have tried my best to keep from diatribing about my personal life, (mainly because I’d actually like people to communicate with me, and that this is supposed to be a GROUP and not just a blog to allow me to relive the glory days of Livejournal) But I figure if I’m going to lead, or at least interest people, some of you may want to know about me. It’ll also let me clear out the cobwebs from my brain while I think about what to do in my book.
Now while I am, by no means, shy, disappointed, or ashamed by most of my life, I just don’t feel like putting down all the details at this time (Though if anyone is actually interested in the details of my life, feel free to ask, a writer is nothing if he cant make anecdotes of his experiences), so in lieu of that, I’ll just put down my current status.
At this time, two-freaking-thirty in the morning (on the dot as I write this actually), I am twenty-three years of age, currently unemployed (unless you count getting a delicious disability check from the government each month a job), I do live with my parents in Colorado (in case any of you wondered). Both due to a car accident I had in 2005 (I got into a fist fight with a mitsubishi, and lost).
Now for those of you curious about my visual aesthetic (I prefer an artistic description to a picture, because thats how I roll, punks);
I appear neither imposing, nor comical in terms of height (translation: I’m 5’9), with the build of what one may describe as a fierce protector (I was, and still am, an avid weight lifter, so I’m built like a bouncer… Or a healthy looking John Goodman. Yeah, I like that second one), with strong shoulders. My visage is that of a kind man, which hides the intense intellect behind it (when you talk to me, I end up looking like my mind is wandering, until you hear me blurt out something utterly profound) With the dark features found on the ancestors of Roman Emperors (I look like a mean Super mario, with the mustache, and Sicilian features) and hair that would make the ancient gods envious! (No need for a translation there. I really do think that. My thick, soft, wavy, lucious dark hair that you all should be jealous of). My eyes, which you should avoid gazing into, for fear of being lost in the intense emotion that they contain, the ever changing colors evoking one to feel as I do, or fear the feelings that I convey.
Well, there you go. I managed to write something completely pretentious, and sounding like something out of a five-dollar Harlequinn romance novel, that describes myself without giving you any idea whatsoever what I may or may not look like. I end up sounding like some burly Adonis with the strength of a thousand men. I like that. Bring on the ladies.
Signed, as always, Mega