A Few Words on Spheres.

I’ve afforded myself contact with numerous spheres during my nearly twenty-two years of existence. As young as four, during my crippling camera phobia phase, I found solace in a small red ball, which forever engrained itself into the photographic fabric of my childhood. Even now, while typing this and sitting cross-legged in my underwear and zip-up hoodie, I dig a serrated blade into the rind of a delicious orange sphere, slicing off and ingesting its juicy pulp. However, despite all of this experience, one increasingly popular sphere continues to elude me: the blog-o-sphere.

My relationship with the Internet reaches as far back as the days where one might describe a broadband as “a group of musician who can play anything,” and since those days of unfathomable patience, I’ve watched it grow. Taking part in the Mp3 revolution and the jump from dial-up and watching the social networking site grow from fascinating, to dangerous, to ‘the norm’, one can imagine that while swimming through the web I’ve at least dipped my toes in each new trend. This remains true, to an extent, but this blog . . . thing . . . has consistently repelled me.

However, I fear that now may be the time. Perhaps the people who have not yet heard the things I have to say need that seemingly white space colored with my markers of monologue. My pastels of prose. This is my third attempt to roll my way into the blog-o-sphere, and with it we will, once and for all, know the truth behind the number three’s charm.

Welcome to my head, and to the Place Where Balloons Go.