Alright dear reader (s?). It's time for another post. I have been lurking in the shadows, trying to maintain a perfect life. But I realize that my life needs some journalistic outpouring once in awhile! Not the strait-laced reporter's version either. I am ready for adventure with the keyboard. I want to take it and let it take me as far as I can go. who knows what the hell that means though, eh?

My first letter of intent goes out to those people who still think media is an honest business. I mean really now. Do you know who you're talking to here? It's the bug behind the leafy green vegetable that knaws against the back of your mind when you sleep. It's the irate, irresponsible media person who can't get enough because he doesn't get enough.

It's easy to be new at something. The hard part is being the old hand. It's hard because you have a taste for it and it eats away at your very being until you can't sleep and can't rest either. Even in yoga class, you're a wreck.

It's the color purple on a field of green. It stands out in a kind of beautiful way, but only because it's old. There's nothing getting in the way of it getting somewhere except itself. Its own decisions mar any kind of consistency that would help it get ahead. There's nowhere to go.

The future is kinda scary, if you didn't know.

We have for so long lived in the ever present fear of this happening, and now that it's about to happen, the fear grows greater. Will that lead to some kind of peace when it does happen? Or will there be some kind of reckoning to be faced? I fear the latter.

Just some rambling thoughts from a high, low and chemically altered newspaperman.