as it should be said.
The more I think about this blog thing, the more I want to just toss it over my shoulder like a jacket and carry it with me. That's funny. Funny, as in ironic. I'm writing this post to no one but myself. I can say anything, and no one will hear.
HELLO! LONDON BRIDGE IS FALLING DOWN! MY POTATOES ARE ON FIRE! ONE DOES NOT SIMPLY WALK INTO MORDOR!
That being adressed, I believe that I should set some things straight, with myself:
- You are not Thoreau.
- You are not Emerson.
- Trancendentalism does not flow out of your fingertips like a magical power.
With all sincerity,