hmmm. A blank page as wide as my imagination. Endless depths of white..like a canvous waiting for my personality to color it's page. This is the basis for my profile? This seemingly bottomless pool of nothingness? This is what i have to work with? I couldn't imagine a more perfect scene. To write how i feel and who i am, it would only taint what is already here in front of me. Every word is a definite boundary placed on what could otherwise be known as unlimited potential. A blank page can be the starting point of what may change thousands of lives. It can be the foundation of the most beautiful poem, the most thrilling tale. Or it can be what you crumple after reading some of the worst crap you have ever had the displeasure of laying your eyes on. It's a nervous thing to attempt to put who you are on a canvous of white for all to see. You open yourself to all manner of scrutiny. It would be far easier to write my stories and have you judge me from them, than to try and define myself as i see myself for your aproval. So read my stuff and maybe you'll like it and therefore find yourself liking me...or at least my style anyways. :-)

Well, I want to talk a little about my Leah Story. Leah's story is a tragidy, she actually suffers through the whole thing and doesn't really end up as happy as she should at the end. I don't want to give anything away, but by the time your done reading what I have in my head, your going to have wanted to laugh, cry and clap with joy and sarrow. I hope to write this story as well as I can picture it, but keep in mind that this is my first attempt to write anything longer than a two page account of the depressed and perhaps insane thoughts in my head. If you want to understand me as a writer a little better, or maybe as a person, then I recomend you reading my my-space account... bigdog2_85 is my email address.