So this is what it's like. A clean slate upon which to write. Bearing my soul in type.
That wasn't meant to rhyme but I suppose I still have vestiges of musical notes floating around among my brain cells. I used to sing my soul you see, but that fizzled a long time ago. Now the words stretch out through rhythmically tapping fingers onto my qwerty, or onto someone's azerty, or someone else's Hungarian or Arabic keyboards. The Hungarian one is a qwertz. Cute. I can't read the Arabic one. The symbols look like little worms on the keys.
I suppose I should create a disclaimer. I type what I think. I rarely proofread. I only censor insofar as I see fit for my own prudish nature. In other words. You will read things as I see them. Feel them. From my eyes. Completely egocentric. We all have to start somewhere. If I'm nice, I'll insert applicable photos. If I'm consistent, this may become my religion. Welcome to my head. To my soul, to Issa's Perspectives.
