I studied language in a university. I mean I bore down on it so fast and so hard and for so long that I diversified. I studied logic, I studied rhetoric, I studied semantics, I studied theory, I studied grammar, I studied literature, I studied Drama, I studied Shakespeare, I read every classic. But I did a whole lot of that before I went to college because television was not allowed in my home and no one wanted to play monopoly with me or scrabble with me or spades with me or hearts with me or checkers because I always won. But my Dad loved to play chess with me and that was important because I could never beat him. If I had known then, what I know now, I would have tried to get him interested in Backgammon and see what happened. I would have overcome all the humility of getting beaten at chess. He was also good at split level tic tac toe, the kind with the clear and blue marbles if anyone remembers them. I was still playing with yo-yo's too and riding bicycles. I was normal and a nerd, which should have indicated language was the discipline of choice I could not avoid.
Then I decided not to go to law school and my parents were angry. Then fifteen years went unaccounted for after I wrote and published several poems that were short and weird enough to please tedious people. I became a self-proclaimed tutor, editor, blogger, and worked for several non-profit organizations. I worked as a paralegal and did some serious stuff I did not enjoy and did not even charge money for it because the cause justified the dedication, time and effort. I gave my talents to the benefit of others and stayed reluctantly humble all of the time. My life was really great. I did not have to get married or divorced, or take anything seriously I did not want to. and I did not want to.
Then I fell in love and she had two strokes in one year and I was diagnosed Parkinson's Disease. It does not matter if you really think about it. We are only human and you can only use that excuse for too long. And it is because I realized that an informed opinion is better than a dog with rabies. Some of my Tumblr fans might see this paragraph and remember some of this. But I have written like five books in one year because sinemet does not help my symptoms but it is like rocket fuel to my creativity and inspiration, and constipation. I am looking for a few worthy writers to join forces with me in a plot to unleash upon the unsuspecting world many tomes of writ that may be considered by people who want to laugh, but don't really know how because their motivation to do so is so challenged by the world. And if you have a brain you are supposed to use it for serious things, I guess. I did my share of that and maybe you did too and maybe you are like me and want to join my foundation and send some proceeds to this foundation and other worthy ones while making some cash for yourself. I want starving artists who barely can eat once a day on the list of authors I will send to the government from my undisclosed location that has to have a physical address and someone living there needs to expect audits here and there enough to take seriously. No pit in the ground pouring money. This is real. DANA did it. Where did they go to? Anyway, get to me through my email firstname.lastname@example.org and we will see what is what and who is who in this visionary thing. Finis.