101

I'm so complex that it seems so simple. So easy. To sit back and let me react to the world in the ways that I know best is to finally understand me. I never react the same way, and I always am predictable in this fashion. I'm obsessive, compulsive, and a perfectionist. Everything in my world fits in the way it should, and if it doesn't, I feel a constant hovering sense of dread and anxiety. I'm a being of opposites, however, because I'm random and spontaneous at the flip of a coin.

Therefore, I write. Thus, I am sensible.

I've always enjoyed writing whether it be blogging or poetry, fiction or rants and raves. It's a sense of getting to know yourself, where it all gathers and festers... my mind holds a lot of groundwork for why I am the way I am. Writing, to me, captures the essence of the thing, as Socrates argues each individual must strive to do. Why not start with oneself? Writing is where I make sense. Therefore, I am.

I'm 19, and I have a lot of passion for arts. The arts seem to bring to light the perspectives of the world that the general public look past. The complexity of life can be found in all forms of art -- photography, paintings, dance, literature -- and somehow makes it all beautifully simplistic.

So I guess this blog is where a few of us will allow our perspectives on life and its many assets to gather and perhaps even make sense.