The Audacity of Caucasity
For a long time I fought with myself about whether I'd write again. I always wanted to, but I never felt capable. Truthfully, writing is a soul-wrenching occupation, and no matter how fictitious (or not) one's works may be, there is a certain level of self-evident truth one has to wrestle with internally. I always aspired to "Edgar Allan Poe it"--there's a certain level of inspiration one can receive from psychedelics, but I'm too poor for pure opium, and marijuana is not yet legal here in North Carolina. I will always say deactivating this page in 2012 was absolutely the worst thing I could have ever done--even if I still have the encrypted pages. While young-minded, they were pure, unadulterated thoughts. Genuine. Sincere. A version of myself that I can only struggle to remember.