Fine, here, I have one now.
Colored lights. Fanfare. Cheering. I'm on LiveJournal. Whee.
My name is Mark. Just Mark. Maybe. Could be I'm lying to you. The username is an old friend, and I'm pissed that it's not capitalized on this site. I style myself as a writer, which too often feels like an excuse to wear black and not cut my hair. But unless you join the red-eyed ranks of the workshops I'm in, or I somehow get published, you'll probably never see any product from me anyway.
I don't know who I'm talking to. No one will see this. But if you do, know that the background is what it is because I hate, and I mean completely loathe, white web pages. I know my screen is dirty. I don't need the internet to make it obvious.
If anything finds it's way onto this page, it will be some vaguely coherent nocturnal rambling fueled by too much brain activity and too little sleep. The stuff of nightmares, that.
--Mark
My name is Mark. Just Mark. Maybe. Could be I'm lying to you. The username is an old friend, and I'm pissed that it's not capitalized on this site. I style myself as a writer, which too often feels like an excuse to wear black and not cut my hair. But unless you join the red-eyed ranks of the workshops I'm in, or I somehow get published, you'll probably never see any product from me anyway.
I don't know who I'm talking to. No one will see this. But if you do, know that the background is what it is because I hate, and I mean completely loathe, white web pages. I know my screen is dirty. I don't need the internet to make it obvious.
If anything finds it's way onto this page, it will be some vaguely coherent nocturnal rambling fueled by too much brain activity and too little sleep. The stuff of nightmares, that.
--Mark