I don’t want this blog to tell how I am. I don’t want to share with my Facebook friends. I don’t want to tweet on Twitterland. I don’t want to sell and I don’t want to brag or hawk or yammer on. I want to write. I want to tell a story. I want to bury myself in the pages and write. Write my gut out. My soul out. I want to build and break and find a sense of belonging and try to stretch my beliefs all in a story. Nothing more and nothing less. I want to say it all inside that. I want to say everything I can and say nothing else. I don’t want to sign and I don’t want to smile and I don’t want to have to make sense. I want to tell a story. Not mine but someone else’s. Yet of course make it my own. Everyone has their story to tell and sell and they do so every second of every day. I don’t want to have to. I want to simply live in the confines of my story and bleed my way through it. I want the story to speak for itself. Nothing more and nothing less. Nice dream. Nice desire. Somedays that’s all I want. All I strive to do. Tell a good story.