“Tongue tied and twisted, just an earthbound misfit, I”
– David Gilmore, Pink Floyd (Learning to fly)
That’s me in that lyric. These are the tales, thoughts, desires, dreams of a misfit. Each piece has a meaning, an existence, its own life unique to itself. Some may seem good. Some bad, some average, but to me they all represent a moment in time when the spirit needed to scream out and be heard by a rebelling being it abided in.
I am a social, political, spiritual and moral hobo and these pieces reflect my search for a meaning from this mad fracas that we know as life. I’ve been many things. To those who know me I’ve been a rebel, a writer, an actor, a pseudo-creative, a writer-whore (copywriter), a liar, a thief, a believer, a pagan, a dreamer, a cynic, a leader, an autocrat, a confidant. I’ve been me. And I see myself as a student of life; trying to survive in world with nothing but agonizing confusion, undying passion and a perpetual curiosity in my corner.
This is my story. It isn’t very colourful. These are the chapters. Some are coded with symbols and the true extent of the emotion is relatively difficult to decipher in a single read. In some, the magma found the weakest spot and formed fissure that then exploded with raw, threadbare and scathing words that seem too intense retrospect.