So I've finally done it. I finally set up my own little blog where I can rant, rave, complain, philosophize (that's a word, right?) and post pictures that I think are neat. Basically, I've joined the ranks of every. other. blog. ever.
I am by no means a professional writer. I've been told that I write fairly well, but I am actually a biology major. If that doesn't pan out, I'm sure a career in the palm oil industry will.
Sure I try to keep up on the news of the day. I try to follow politics. I seperate my love for internet subculture from my everyday life...mostly...and I pretend to care about my friend of a friend's sister's status updates on facebook. I think I'm an awesome person. And like every other blagger on the blogosphere, I think I'll make the next SUPA WOW AWESOMU POWA blog.
And I do my best writing at night, when I'm laying down and drifting off to sleep. I can think of a subject for several minutes, but the moment I reach for my notebook or my laptop the thoughts are gone. I do recall, however, that a couple nights ago I pondered on the true definition of a continent. I believe I was wondering whether or not a continent solely applied to a landmass or if islands off the landmass also fell into some sort of unwritten law that they had to be part of a continent. I'm sure I could find this out easily enough, but its a lot more fun when you're left wondering.
I guess what I'm getting at is that it always seems the best ideas come around when no one is there to listen or you are just too lazy to turn on the light and get that thought on paper.
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