I’m actually someone, but I choose to remain anonymous.
“In a way, we make each other perfect through anonymity.”
You might have sat across me on some bus or walked past me on a sidewalk, but you might not have noticed me. It’s that cloud we call self-centeredness that’s to blame. Don’t worry, though. No one can really blame you; I’m not exempt from it either. It’s better that way — mysteries help us create immaculate ideas of each other. In a way, we make each other perfect through anonymity.
But that doesn’t tell you anything much about me, right? OK, here goes. I’m a Leo. I’m the first-born son. I think that I got robbed of my innocence. I like writing. Everything else about me seems irrelevant after those. Rather than happy, I’ll choose to be sanguine. It just sounds better that way. Oh by the way, I like alliteration, too!
I don’t have a car, so I usually commute. I also like walking. If I can see my destination without squinting, I’ll most likely walk towards it. While on my way, I think a lot. About life. About me. About others. About random ideas like lint, shibboleth, or cracks. Most probably, the things that would come to mind on my commutes would be my usual topics, but I reserve the right to write deviations.
While we’re here, let’s just enjoy each other’s stories and trade experiences. Who knows? While we’re writing awesome, incandescent graffiti — a.k.a our lives — and posting pictures on the internet, a nugget of wisdom might slip our grasps into each other’s palms. If only that can be treated like gold and be used for currency… just supply whatever you want here.