Author has written 11 stories for Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, and Evangelion.
Who Am I..?
I'm a poor, struggling, wannabe writer without an ounce of talent in his body.
I'm cool but impetuous, a lovable smart-ass, the hot shot know-it-all; I'm tragic, I'm poetic; I'm a lone soul amidst the sea of people.
I'm the tragic, beautiful, quiet one; the strains of music hanging in the air once the record has stopped, the tune of the music box that's sparks memories, the smell of old times past, the turning of a head from a lovers' voice or touch, the last one to leave the room, the watcher instead of the player. I'm always out of reach, comfortable to be alone in a crowd; I can be a bit distant, and I may push others away, but I prefer to observe anyway; that's why I'm always in someone's -or everyone's- thoughts.
I'm the poetic loner; the one smiling and standing alone, the footsteps echoing in an empty hallway, or the hand resting on the microphone stand. I'm the tendency to stare out the window when it's raining and watch the drops splatter against the glass, the glass of whiskey with the scent of cologne on it; the streets of the city being walked at night. A dreamer at heart, romantic to the core, I'm too driven by emotions for some, and sometimes a bit maudlin, but I wear my heart on my sleeve. That's how it is; I just couldn't exist any other way.
I'm the definition of cool; the voice that stands out, the silhouette cut against the hazy smoke in the doorway, the smoke trailing from the ever present cigarette, the steaming cup of black coffee, the tuned-up music when you're angry, the loud pattern on a shirt that has been pushed to the back of the clearance rack; The bold laughter at any threat. I'm careless and cocky, brash and outspoken; I can be insolent at times, sometimes -all of the time-, and maybe a bit brazen for some but, hey! I've got it under control; that's how I function best.
I'm the epitome of nonchalance; the car cruising around without destination, the adventurer without a map, the boat sailing through deep uncharted waters without a compass. I am the one who walks this world without aim or reason, the breeze of this spring afternoon, the heat of the last summer night, the leaves rustling at dusk on fall, the chilly morning wind of winter. I'm the idle drumming of fingers, waiting anxiously for something -anything- to happen. Ultimately laid-back, perhaps I'm too indifferent, but don’t worry... it's all cool, yo.