romantic egoist

I am a writer.

To even call myself that is being pretentious.
I know nothing of art design, nothing of how to make whiz bang graphics or how to keep you at my site with interactive technology.
All I know how to do, is write.
This is a total wysywig (what you see is what you get) production. I have added enough graphics to keep it from being dull.
And that is it.

What you are about to enter is my mind. Something I personally have never been able to grasp, nor do I expect you to do. What I do expect is that you do not judge me based on what you read. Some of which I write *is* quit graphics. Love affairs, love affairs gone sour, how I view the world, what I am thinking, how I am thinking it. How I feel about many and sundry things.

This site is two years old, and has been bounced around from one server to another. If you know me personally, you have watched me grow in the last few years as I keep stretching and expanding to fill the void in which is me.

I have been accused, rather recently, of various things, such as how can I enter a new relationship, if each previous relationship ends up on my site. How can I *love*, *feel* for each different induhvidual if the one before was “the one”. I have no clear answer. Only what I know is that with each person I had become involved in, whether platonically or intimately, each person gave me something that was not found by others. Each person is independent of each other. Seemingly, while I attract the same “type” of person, my goal is to break that habit. To be completely independent and free. To love deeply and enduringly as I humanly can. To ask me for more would be too much. To ask for less is not enough.

To communicate how I feel, I write for the moment. Many pieces on this site reflect that mood. And moods do change. To love someone deeply one minute, only to be heartbroken the next. This site is a reflection of the many facets of which I have identified in my own persona. To call me a hypocrite for how I feel is to deny my feelings. And to deny me of the one thing that *is* constant in my life, which is feelings, is to kill me dead.

This site has been arranged chronologically into when the piece was written. It may seemingly seem as though my life keeps running into each other, while affairs sound great, there is no ending. I have added several pieces this evening (November 11, 1997) that were written and haven’t seen the light of day. Some of those pieces such as one, anger and one part 2 reflect the “bad” side of the relationship I had with Christian. Those pieces were posted on another site, under an assumed name, as I didn’t want the world to see “my” failure.

Things have changed, considerably. And I am sure, things will change again in another six months. I am not the same person, whom I was when i wrote Downpour as I am now. Nor am I the same person yesterday as I am today. My world is forever dynamic, never static.

So please, before you decide to zip out that old email program, and tell me what you think, be honest with yourself and with me. That is all I have ever asked for.