So what do I tell you?
My name?
But which one?
The one I was given at birth?
The one I was supposed to have at birth?
The one I got it legally changed to?
The one I used on DIgg? Reddit? Gizmodo? Twitter in 2010?
Does it matter?
I could give you more information that you can handle but what would it actually tell you?
A name isn't my eye colour, it isn't my height, weight, sexual preference, it isn't my laugh, my distractions, it's very little compared to the twisted tapestry of my life but it is sometimes a handy tool to have, so let's go with the nom de guerre I have been using for this endeavor, PK.
There, we've settled that.
But what about the true nature of the author?
Is he cruel, kind, weak, powerful, accomplished, influential, impressive, worthless, pointless, powerless?
The Author is a fool.
That's the most honest I have ever been.
But the truth of this endeavor is not the author, their identity, their origins, despite how they may have influenced it,
It's the idea itself, and how ridiculous it is.
A story of a world, tilted slightly, a discovery, a collaborative escape, and one well meaning, slightly lost, idiot, who gets caught up in the story of this tale.
Split into pieces.
Trifurcated.
Because that's the way it felt best.
Told you I was a fool.
Find out for yourself.
https://everybodygetstosurf.com/
https://bastardidamnosegloria.com/