A Hymn for the Beginning. . .

Shawn Milke, for those who don't know who he is (which I assume is 98% of you readers), is a lead singer in a band. Look it up in another tab, because I could care less to explain someone who is not me. That being said, I do like Shawn, and his love for poetry has inspired me to take under his name for some time, maybe forever.

Now. . . what to say? I'm not going to tell you what I like/dislike in the typical and generic classroom setting where the conversation starts like "Hi, I'm Blah. I like blah, blah, blah and blah. I have blah, I do blah, blah blah blah blah bla-" You get the point! It's tedious on any first day. It's annoying, monotonous, inexpressive, and rather lacking. In everything. Without exception. Foreeeeeeeeeeeeever!

SOOO, let me tell you what I like. I like being open about what I feel, regardless of whether I say it or not. In person I may never get to the point, just end up beating around the bush for what feels like an eternity, but under anonymity, I will get straight to the point, more or less. This means I will write in some personnal feelings without to much to give away carelessly. Also, this world is great, my feelings are great, and great is great. But great is not great. Great is everyday, everywhere. "How are you?" "Great!", "I finished this project!" "Great!", "I feel great today!" "Great!"... great is starting to sound like greet in my mind.

Grand is the word of the day. Grand is what I'm searching for. If I fall short of grand, then. . . great! What now? Try again, but maybe a different way. A grand new way, but not a brand new way. This world is great, but what lies inside and beyond the perceivable image of this planet is a grand fantasy, and so fantasy it shall be.

"Oh, great! Another fantasy..." Not exactly. Fantasy is like fighting dragons and using magic and stuff that hugs and borders and stuffs that stuff. Stuff it! To let you know my intentions, I will be using the mind a friend of mine, who has some incredible material that I will use to write a story about her stories. Her fantasies, her dreams, and the dream of her dreams as she sleeps in her dead life. A dream-ception that will make more and more sense as we dive deeper into the sleeping world of our (mostly my) beloved friend, and capture the grand moments of her dreamer.

So you just sit back. Shut your eyes and let the pleasure strangle you. Taste the tears of sweet indulgence, pain and fantasy. Let the visions roam in your head, and the emptiness haunt towards you. Let sanity slip from your hands now, stand closer to the edge than you should be allowed. Feel no regrets for this, and become the dreamer.
Your interpreter and creator,
-Shawn Milke