I am amazing super.

He stared at it, this blinking, pulsing thing, this line of individual dots packed tightly together, and viewed at a distance no greater then the span of his lap. It was haunting presence on the blank sheet, every flash a spark of laughter, mocking the building frustration filled rage that welled within the veins of him.

A beast.

A horrible illiterate beast.

He, like a mime of painted face, trapped inside a world that only he knew the limitations of, fighting a wind that only he knew the truth, awesome strength. He was trapped in a prison of his own design, the blinders nailed cruelly to the sides of his face, as red, liquid life, crimson stain poured down the sides of his face. Forced to a life of self imposed ignorance!

Yes, this was he, he, of whom would not read, in fear of absorbing, of making one with the cesspool that was his creativity. He, that sought to be so original, he turned his back on the outside world, little knowing, little realizing that everything else he witness became a nest for this vile beast.

Though knowing his own faults, he pushed himself into the filled pages, the steps in the sand, the pathways lined by those that had come before him, and those that had passed him while he lumbered lost within himself.

WHAT HOPE IS THERE FOR HIM!?

We shall see.... We shall....see....