Part I- Confession
The following few essays are written in an attempt to reveal who I really am through writing. It will share my personal history, reflections, stories and attitudes as honestly as possible.


Part 1-

My room is dimly lit in warm yellow light. An American flag hangs behind me, a peace sign replaces 50 white stars, a nod to my love of freedom and harmony.

This is where I write. My desk is exploding with post-it note shrapnel screaming to-do lists and meaningless words like mastodon and yowl. The to-do lists are always titled tomorrow. A creaking floor above me whispers lover's secrets almost always less than 10 minutes at a time. A blowish wind outside tugs in a new season every three months and I've only just started to notice. My speakers thump with classic rock staples and undiscovered nobodies begging karma to give them another chance. This is my existence in a nut-shell. A gross generalization of my life. This is the result of a diet of Adderol and Miller Lite and Captain Morgan, ingested with moderation.

I've lived for nearly 21 years. Well, I haven't lived most of those. I must admit. This is my honest confession. Observation. I have observed my life for the past 21 years in silence. I've taken in the smells, feelings, emotions, sounds and images and analyzed ever tiny detail and spit out my personal take on things as fact. What I boast in outer confidence I lake in inner conviction. I am the product of miles of road covered with glass gravel and the inability to fit into my own shoes. But, I'm always better because of my scars, or I would like to think.