Nothing is more vacuous than a blank page. Cavemen knew this. On walls glistening with the birth of creation, they feared the emptiness of a cavern. So they painted. Using animal hides as outstretched palettes, ruby blood as paints, and thoughts dripping with human ingenuity, cave walls became murals and history became an artwork. This is because the defense against the emptiness of nothingness is a masterpiece.
Now, I can’t paint. But I am similar to caveman insofar that I fart and scream and holler at woman, animals, and blank walls. So with words that are pictures in themselves, I hope to combine 26 letters in a way that will at least fill up a page. Or maybe empty out a heart. Or maybe ignite a laughter. I will keep doing this until all my thoughts are worn, or until I grow up.
Welcome to my blog.