I am of the type whom prefers to be good at everything they do, whether playing guitar, painting a portrait, writing whatever suits my mood or anything that I intend to put my mind to. I should mention (as it seems relevant to some, those whom I wish to exclude) I don't drive, I smoke (cigarettes, cigars, or a pipe if you promise not to laugh too much), and I enjoy my beer. I never run out of energy, I ask too many questions, I used to have a photographic memory but I think it's failing as of late. I like intelligent and/or talented people; I'm fascinated by other cultures. I play music, I used to be a metal guitarist but moving into anything I don't know to challenge myself as a musician. I like many different kinds of music from ancient ethnic music or classical to blues. I love to paint or sketch with anything from oils, watercolors, gouache, charcoal, pencil, acrylic, or even rust paint. What I paint varies from surrealist or allegorical to portraits, landscapes to cartoonish. I love to read anything non-fiction, (especially philosophy, ancient history, evolution, etc.,) but do enjoy classic works and highly acclaimed fiction between other texts. I enjoy writing anything from poetry to philosophy to fiction. www.cinefactus22.deviantart.com/gallery/ www.my*s*pace.com/blackashtwilight I also like to write aphorisms or maxims as well: *********************************************************************************** * * In golden halls we do rarely see (and take) the tunnel of light. It is in our darkest hour, when all seductive paths remain hidden, terrifying or alienated from us, that we see and walk the longer, harder path, which was always self-evident. *********************************************************************************** * * Let us say: There is a mass of people trudging down a seemingly perpetual hill. What if you came into being on this hill? What if you were to awake with your feet moving in time to those around you? Would you march alongside them and hope there was a reason? A route free of resistance. Or would you stop, think, and make attempts to wrestle some meaning from these surroundings? Risking tramplings and likely succumbing to abandonment. Or would you fight your way back up the hill to its peak? In the splendid halcyon render your own judgments and descend the hill on a side of your own preference, to a direction you could verily witness and name! *********************************************************************************** * One finds few atop the black chasm void whom do shine as they. It is never long before they are jostled back down into marching rhythm or become trampled into the ground by grand momentum of mindless footsteps. But, oh, did they not levitate; rise and see with wide eyes . . . and as they descended back down into the great sea of blackness they would witness those ever-changing few were not but a resplendent legion, their fires burning so very bright. From up on high those few sparks of brilliance did appear as a one great luminosity . . . for they did all blend together.