I’m no one.
I’ve written a few books, but they’re not popular.
I served in the U.S. military, but I’m no hero, just a bureaucratic desk jockey.
I often get wrapped around an axel on grammar rules but suck at them.
I’m a recovering Christian who became an agnostic when I realize that no one knows since all ancient religious documents were written by humans with bicameral minds.
I survived some nasty child abuse disguised as moral parenting in the name of a loving god. I didn’t have it as bad as some but still struggle with the trauma, and it instilled within me a deep self loathing.
I’m a college dropout who tried for a degree in computer programming but quit with just two semester hours to go because I didn’t want to take yet another Microsoft Office class.
I’m a toxic partner who has been divorced twice; they both left me. Wedding vows are just words; words that don’t undo how much of a horrible person I am. I’m done with relationships; I wouldn’t survive another failure. Besides, I’ve been fooled twice; I ain’t falling for it again. To top that, I have way too much destructive baggage, and I’m too lazy to fix myself.
I’m a single parent of two children and barely holding on. I have more losses than wins but keep trying, and despite all my failures my kids still love me for some reason.
I play way too many video games in a feeble attempt to escape reality to one that I feel as if I at least have some control even if that sense of control is extremely limited.
I overthink everything to the point of irritation or complete frustration for anyone victim to the result. I can even become unresponsive because my mental loops keep me from choosing a response.
For more than half a century I’ve attempted to learn about everything I find interesting, but I still know nothing.
I struggle with perpetual depression to the point that suicide is always on the table as an option; my past attempt failed. Since then, medications keep me on this side of the veil … for now.
I’ve lost all the friends I’ve ever had, and only one member of my family even texts me from time to time, even though he really doesn’t like me. So I live with my kids. I am so very alone in this crowd.
My brain hates me and won’t let me relax. It will not let me forget all the embarrassing moments of my life or any of my many regrets. I will die with more regrets than I can count.
I’m always looking for new comedy videos to watch in hopes that one will help numb my anguish, even for just a few seconds. It’s becoming its own drug. Guess there’s worse drugs to be addicted too, but I have to be caught off guard to even genuinely laugh.
I’m a self-destructive, frail human looking for order in this sea of chaos; however, even chaos can produce a semblance of order given enough iterations, like monkeys banging on typewriters.
I once turned to mathematics to solve my search for order. However, I came to realize math is just human-created symbology to depict what we perceive. And while math may appear neat, reality is a mess that not even the highest form of math can solve.
I wish my life was simple, but it is a complicated, convoluted mess that I strive to comprehend or occasionally squeeze from it a drop of joy.
That’s me in a nutshell. No need to sugar-coat anything.