Alo, name's Ronny. I never know what to write on these profiles, especially when they're set up like this. Just me, a blank page, and unlimited characters. Is it strange for a writer to never have the right words when it comes to writing about myself? I think so. If not odd, then surely some kind of ironic. Do you like how I'm rambling about random things instead of really telling about myself? Good deflector, I find. Though, if I want to build any kind shallow cyber rapport between me and whoever's eyes are currently scrolling through this, then I should relinquish some personal details.
So without further ado, here's a quick list of mentionables:
-20something (exactly 20 this year of 2013. My birthday is January 8th, making me a Capricorn for those who may care to know.)
-College dropout (completed one year and half a semester before the constant drone of student life proved unfulfilling, again, and cast me into a deeper state of mental despairing uselessness than I plunge into naturally.)
-Black/African American/person of color/whatever other term has been coined to categorize my skin tone.
-Suspected aspie (aspie=person with Asperger Syndrome)
-Language enthusiast (love mimicking accents, learning languages, studying dialects, constructing fictitious languages-- mostly invisible skill known as conlanging.)
-Movie/TV show addict (my idea of doing something for the weekend is catching up on a show or watching three movies back to back and then discussing all of them in depth, thinking about them for hours, implanting myself in their worlds; oh wonderful escapism.)
Hm...not exactly enough to know me. After all, who really cares about the stats, the surface details, the type of human being I can be termed as on official paper? I'm here to write. That should be the meat and potatoes of this. Writing. What does it mean to me? Why do I put pen to paper? Simple answer: I have to. I write out of need. Sometimes it's not even fun, but I must do it to keep from imploding. Words were my only friends growing up. Even with the one dear friend I have today and would likely die without, I still say words know me best. They keep me sane, help me calm, sometimes while simultaneously upsetting me and driving me mental. They're the only things I can truly trust, the only things that will never leave me or hurt me, all that is mine. My ability to use those words as clay, shaping mental worlds to whisk my troubled mind to...this ability, the words, it all saves me somehow. Every time the dirt drowns, I take pen to paper, color pencil to wall, finger to air and write. Every letter pushes me above the dark, every word's a lifesaver wrapping around my waist, and a sentence the rope that pulls to some kind of safety, whether everlasting or temporary.
Emo angst aside, I do actually thoroughly enjoy story telling. I have a lot of fun doing it and hope to make a stable career out of it one day. My favorite part is creating characters. I love making people more than I love giving them things to do. That kind of favoritism definitely screws me up sometimes when it comes to putting a coherent tale together, but I still manage to have a good time. Even when a story goes nowhere, I try to hold on to the characters in hopes of finding something for them to do later like they're actors. Attachment issues, I know I've gotta work on that. Just spending a few hours designing people, their pasts, personalities, ideals...it's the most I have with even the most difficult, dead end story, which makes the time spent not wasted.
Anyway, I look forward to sharing stories, characters, and thoughts (creative and personal alike) with the ff.net cyber world. As of right now I do not have any fics written, only ideas swimming around in my head incessantly. My first fic will likely be under the Supernatural or Once Upon A Time fandom. That's all I can divulge at the moment.
Well, that's all I can say for now. I hope to read from many of you and I hope you read me, too.
Take care now, Bye-Bye then.