I am myself. Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe cheese or puss from a blister. I like that. Periods. No, never mind. And words like perhaps and the and indeed. I am an author of words, an illustrator of lines, and a designer of emptiness.
I am a future father… perhaps in a few days… I am a father. I am husband, a brother, a son, a lousy cook, with the exception of grilled cheese and tuna sandwiches, Gorgonzola gnocchi, and home-made mac and cheese. I am a person.