A faceless harlequin.
I am but am another nick of the percentage of the melodramatics who claims to live mainly in a delusion, if living it may be called. Another bloke with a bad-case of injected estrogen, cigarette, despondence and loneliness. And these are my impetuses for the flailing eloquent wisps of my pen and euphonious clacking of the keyboard.
I am cautious, suspicious and skeptic to people, to their ideas and motives, to theories, to facts. A little streak of misanthropy, I will admit. However, I do not take life lightly; I want to live passionately and intensely. A superficial life is worst, if not tantamount, to no life at all. On perverse logic though, my fears and my status strangulates me in a leash of mediocrity. And mediocrity is not humility, it is impotency. Still, I am always on the lookout for new things, but certainly do not require it.
I'm part-Asian and part-Peter Pan and I could use some criticism especially on my grammar. Thank you.
These thoughts are all my reticence had provided me, rather scarce. Bask in my entrees and you might as well find me there.