Thor's day.

Ok I have a confession to make, I like being unique and different. I like to be viewed as a maverick. Maybe its just the fact that I am slightly out of tune with the rest of the world or the fact that I always view life a little off kilter. Maybe my thinking patterns are a smidgen different, they do say that genius is next to insanity or is that cleanliness is next to Godliness. No matter either way I know that I think at a 90 degree angle from the rest of the masses. I know people don't understand me, they can't understand why I don't react like the rest of humanity. I am constantly questioning people's ingrained philosophies and beliefs. I have this little voice in my head that is constantly asking why. Why is that true? How come I can't do it this way? I also like trying new things and stretching my boundaries. I am a true renaissance individual, I want to be good at everything and do everything. I refuse to believe that there is something I can't do. To paraphrase a noted author... "Argue for your limitations and sure enough they are yours."

2B || ?2B

I was lying awake this morning, in that half-awake, half-asleep, twilight state that your brain will sometimes slip into; I was thinking about something a friend of mine had said to me and wondering about my reaction to it. Let me explain. Have you ever wanted to be immortalized, to have your name remembered after you are dead and gone? How far would you go to get this to happen? Why do people avidly seek out their 15 minutes of fame? Would you make a fool of yourself to get yourself remembered? "Hey Fred, did you see that idiot who tried out on American Idol last night? What a reject. What a moron. He couldn't sing worth crap..." You get the picture? However, what if you were given an opportunity to live that 15 minutes without having to make yourself look like an imbecile. Would you do it? Even if it caused you short term embarrassment? For instance, suppose you wrote a short story and wanted to submit it to a magazine but didn't know if it was any good. Or maybe you painted a picture and now it is doing nothing but collecting dust in the basement. Or maybe you are a good looking female and your friends are trying to talk you into posing nude and sending the picture into Penthouse. Could you take the risk, baring your soul to the world and accepting the possible criticism that entailed? Why is it easier for some people to express their inner self? Why are people so afraid of opening up? Yeah, yeah I know, deep thoughts for so early in the morning, but sometimes this is when I do my best thinking. Is it possible that 90% of the world has low self esteem? What does that make the confident ones? Leaders? How much greatness is buried in feelings of inadequacy? "All we have to fear is fear itself..."

It was a dark, dank, gloomy mind and the slivey toads did gyre and gimble all night.

Greetings Earthlings. Welcome to the twisted corridors of my mind. In case you did not recognize me, I am a 30something year old resident of the state of Nevada (or the state of depravity depending on my mood) who decided to blog on a whim. One sleepless night while waiting to go to bed I noticed my significant other on a strange website furiously typing while muttering strange chants under her breath. Intrigued in spite of myself, I took a closer look and discovered that my wife had succumbed to the temptations of blogging. As she mumbled, "I don't know what to say..." to herself, I heard my mind screaming "I CAN DO THAT!" and so a blog was born.
In case you haven't figured it out, I am an amateur writer with more dreams of being published than realities. In the 9-5 world I do technological support for a medical company here in Sin City, Las Vegas. I come home everyday and collapse in front of my monitor surrounded by the tomes that are stacked in every nook and cranny of my home library and continue to stare at a computer screen while cruising the net looking for estoterica or playing one of the countless computer strategy games that I enjoy. I grew up in a large family of 10 children and the cavernous silence of my own home is a welcome blanket that I cling to. My wife of 15 years has learned to put up with my pensive moods and has finally given up (I hope) trying to drag me out to socialize. I have a single 15 year old son, whose neurotic desire to be alone is worse than mine. He also spends long hours in front of a computer screen working on his ghostly white cathode-ray induced non-tan.
I grew up in Lost Wages, playing D and D and logging on to computer BBSes (cough Multi-Comm). I was a product of the early days of the Clark County School District when teachers weren't churned out by the bucketful and you could travel from one end of the valley to another in under 30 minutes. I was a creative child, inventing games and designing worlds for my siblings and my own amusement. Even as a kid I was a loner, prone to taking long bike rides across dusty Vegas roads or climbing trees to hide from the noise that the crowd that was my family produced. I had few friends as I marched to the beat of my own drummer and he was playing reggae on the bongo drums. This trend has continued to this day as the people who get to know me don't want to spend the energy that it takes to keep up with the trials and tribulations of traveling in Lloyd's world.