Dear fellow essayers and onlookers,
Prepare to be amazed. Wowed. Transfixed in one spot for months on end where your only sustenance is a form of jelly paste, where your mother has to provide the occasional “sanitary-napkin for you know what” and where even after the release from your catatonic state, you’re no better than a vegetable when you read the word “the” because it was placed so masterfully in a sentence. Exhausting, I know. If you’re expecting such exhilarating exhaustion or to freeze months on end due to this blog, you may want to go elsewhere. Seriously.
Let me first warn you that my essays are only as good as my words are. They are the stick figures which my ideas hinge on. They are the foundation where my thoughts rest. They comprise my entire prose. But, they remain just that, stick figures. I do not have the adequate vocabulary to pepper them up. I cannot add any artistic inflection to sentences. In a word, a very poor word, my writing is shit.
Now that that is across, I’d like to invite you to read all the other great essayists of our time. Read their stuff. Cherish it. They got some great “shit” brewing over their in the blog-o-sphere.
Oh, and I am also using this blog to write some ideas that come to my mind. Will one day grow up and stop imagining things, but until then, this blog is where they go. Also, I am Kacper. I like the colour red. I have a twin. Hopefully that rascal doesn’t set up an identical blog…
Nibs (not Nibaldo Galleguillos – I wish)