Wow, this is difficult. I keep trying to make the perfect description of who I am, and am finding it incredibly difficult. It’s probably because I know there is no way to capture everything about me in just a few paragraphs of text. I’m a writer, so yeah, there is no way that’s going to happen. But, I will try to maybe draw a small picture that at least hints at the whole. What is really relevant to know about me? Um, hmm. Give me a minute. I’ll tell you in the next paragraph.

Okay, after some thought, I’ve decided that I’m a pretty simple person when it comes down to it. I like hiking and climbing and exhausting myself physically. I drink a lot of tea, and spend a lot of time writing and editing at my computer. Then I’ll take a break and maybe watch a concert or a nature documentary on YouTube, or just go for a walk in a random place, though generally the more ‘natural’ it is, the better. People have described me as a lone wolf, but whatever. If I were an animal, I suppose I’d be a leopard or snow leopard, but then again, wouldn’t it be awful to have to kill to survive? Maybe I’m getting off track, though. Give me another minute to create the greatest paragraph ever.

Okay, so here it is. I’m here, writing at my computer. Bam, done. Another sentence, and there. Whee. Oh, yeah, and there’s supposed to be meaning and stuff, rather than this silly avant-garde horse manure. Oh man, how vicious I can be on myself, but maybe that’s what makes it good. If it’s good at all, who knows? Yikes. So much twisting and turning in and out of abstraction, it’s disorienting. I just want to… come on… when will it come? Blah. Another block. Another hesitation and over-deliberation. When will I escape this string of weirdness? Aye, maybe all it takes is to switch to a new paragraph, so here goes.

Phew, wow, that was scary. Okay, now I can continue. I’m doing my thing, and hopefully it works out, since I have no desire to travel the well-traveled paths. Hopefully my book sells, so I can have the motivation to write another, without falling into a scary Proust-like nightmare of writing for no real rewards. I’ve waited long enough, I think.

aj

14 September 2015.