Prologue

I could write all manor of drivel here. I could leave trails of myself everywhere in little breadcrumbs, deliver pieces of my life in cryptic, nondescript, incoherent forms, because they say that is what blogs are for. But I don't think I will, today at least. I think I'll leave you on the very edges of your seats and leave you completely mystified with wonder. Because I've decided there is most definitely no rush.
What I will say/write today about the particulars of myself, is this: You will not like me. And if think you do it will be because you can get something from me, or because you believe you can. You will tolerate me at best. And if you do like me truly, it is because you let me be who I am and don't expect anything from me - you people are truly rare and everyday of sanity you give me is a blessing in disguise.
Other then this I will leave you completely dumbfounded and clueless because I am tired of baring my soul. I am tired of scribbling down the details of myself like some, bizarre resume, the curriculum vitae of my life. I would rather we stay somewhat decent strangers at this point.
If you know my face, we've passed in the street, drank in each others company and shared very few words or none at all, then you know exactly everything you need to know about me because you need to know exactly nothing about me. The concrete details aren't necessary, I come from somewhere, I live this way, I am this person. I do things. I fuck up. I fall down. I get up. I eat. Sleep. Breathe. Bleed. I fly occasionally too, not so much lately.
Like leaves... eventually we all fall down... a little morbid, but its true and come spring they grow back.