(I think I might update my account at OKCupid, so I’m gonna toss up a bunch of my old info in here, because I thought some of it was rather clever, in my ever dorky fashion…)

You know, if there’s one thing I’m all about, it’s gotta be the idea that you never really know a person, you just have a perspective of them that occasionally overlaps with their perspective of themselves.

Nah, I’m not really quite like that. I’m more like, “Hey, yo, you gonna finish that cookie?” and then I’m all like, “The thing I like about your haircut is that it hurts people. Emotionally.”

I can’t really put myself into an accurate perspective; I hate to say that I must be experienced to be understood, but I’d rather you tell me than the other way around. I’m not going to try to woo you with misunderstandings of how similar we are, especially when it’s our characteristic differences which might make us click.

When I was born, the doctor plucked me and my thirty hive-siblings from our egg sack and said to the womb-machine, “one of these vastly similar infants is destined to something, which in the grand scheme of time, is mostly not unlike the life-paths of the others.” The doctor breathed heavily through his thickly mandibled jaws. “But the point is, be it a poet or a liar or some sort of indistinct dancing blur off in the distance, it shall be an individual: much like the others.”

Then there was school. I remember the other kids were there, but the rest is like a dream that somebody else told me about.

I remember, sometimes, the imaginary wars I fought in during my twenties. The endless non-existent global conflicts I was plunged into, rock-and-roll soundtrack in my ears, my killing weapons close at hand. Others were playing video games or role-playing games. I was stuck in the killing fields of the mind, trying to make the world safe for all the good little people who might never be.

These days I spend a lot of time.

I spend lots of time, mostly on candy for my friends.