Saturday, November 29, 2008

A bit about me, I guess. Not as if anyone will be reading this. haha.

I really dont even think anyone knows that I have this.
Oh wait. Of course they don't. I havent told anyone. Oh well!
Maybe I will.
So, if any stranger just so happens to stumble upon this, you can now know who I am, slightly.


I am nobody and I do not exist.
If you know me, you will beg to differ. But you don't know me as well as I do, which is interesting, considering that I hardly know myself. That is the way I intened to keep it. At least for you. If you truly care to find out about me and to see me as something more than a figment of your imagination, then it is entirely up to you and I will not aid you on your journey and you will be completely and entirely alone, just as I was as I tried to find myself as more than a figment. Recently I had everything I believed about myself turned upside down and shaken out of me. I am currently standing on a large stepping stone in a creek. The stone is cracked and very slippery. But if you care to know, I do have a few things about me that I am willing to share without you having to ask. Whether you find them useful or not is up to you. Though remember that nothing is not useful, its simply a matter of how you use it. For starters, I love questions. I aboslutely love them. I adore them. Questions. Questions of all sorts. All shapes and sizes and of any matter of importance. I love asking questions. I love answering questions. I love knowing why people ask them and why they answer them in the way that they do. I like to know why people do things, but I do not like when people ask me why I do or questions my actions. I like to think. I am a thinker. I like thinking and I like words. I'm good with words and letters. "I think therefore I am". Even though I like to think, I do not always like to talk about the different thoughts I have. I don't like surprises, but I like to surprise. I don't like being scared but I enjoy scaring. You can catch me jumping out of bushes at small children on halloween. Then I steal the candy they dropped. If I'm lucky enough I can get a whole bag.That leads to perhaps the second most important thing about me. Candy. There are very few things I wouldn't do for a piece of candy. Good candy. I like candy. I like sugar. I like maple syrup. I like honey. Anything sweet. I love sweets. This may be a downfall. I give a new meaning to the lyrics "You are my sweetest downfall" I have taken shots of maple syrup and eaten honey with a spoon. I run on sweet things. I also crave the most unusual food sometimes. Just today I was craving oreo cookies, raw broccoli, baked potatoes, and KFC gravy. At least half of the time the food I crave is actually food I do not like. I am known for eating food I don't like simply because its there. I once ate nearly a whole pan of brownies. I hate brownies. Even though I am a baker. I am currently going to school at the Culinary Institute of American for a degree in Baking and Pastry Arts Management. It is located in New York. My life is confusing right now when it comes to academics. I don't consider myself to be an academic or intelligent person. This is part of my stepping stone. My original intention was to go to The New School Of Art in New York City for some sort of art degree. Midway through the application process I had a mental breakdown and I haven't done art since, with the exception of one painting. I do not intend to ever do art again. That is all I wish to share with you up front. If you are interested in knowing more, I'm sure there is a rumor or two out there going on about me that you can believe. If you wish to find me, I will be where ever I shouldn't be, doing something I shouldn't do.

1 comment:

The Raevyn said...

I too once had a very strong intention to do an art degree. I was frightened away by a very bad experience during my A Levels, which involved old lady teachers allocating marks according not to how talented you were, but according to how much old lady arse you kissed. Since I dislike kissing the arses of old ladies, my grades were very poor.

I hope you were not frightened off by old ladies in power as was I. I hope that one day you may find yourself in a place you can bring yourself to do art again, for all art is beautiful, from the stickmen doodled absent-mindedly to the complex graphical works of M.C. Escher.

Except any art found in the Tate Modern. That is not beautiful. Unmade beds and overturned binbags do not art make. But other than that.