Blogspot. That was all Norman had on his mind. To share with the world your babble of words, in a loosely constructed manor. To blog, to be blogged, to have blogged, to the blogiest to the max. There was nothing wrong with blogging in particular, but Norman did have a shred of dignity left. What if everything was laid bare? How could he live with himself? Blogging was meant to be a mere pastime, rather than something that consumed him. Norman chucked. Consumed him? What did he think a blog was? It's just a little jot of ink on the computer screen. Just a little pebble on the road. No one would ever even see it. Unless they perhaps looked one day. Blog were meant to be seen, but only by those in the know. In the fold. In the weather. Inside the Armageddon. There is nothing where there is nothing and there is something where there are pieces. Pieces of memories, of blogs. Spots.
I am Norman Holmes. I was carrying a burden, but I put it down and now I am free. My burden is still over yonder so I can pick it up again at any so time I choose. I like my burden. It gives me motivation and helps build my strength. Without a burden how would I be able to learn to lift things? My burden is my teacher. My teacher is my mentor. My mentor is my guide. My guide is my light. My light is not my dark, but it can make shadows of things. My shadow is big and small, at intervals depending on the direction the light hits me. The sun is the brightest light I know. I dislike the sun for being too bright. It is hard to look at and may even damage your vision in certain circumstances. But it provides heat and love and warmth and growth. Photosynthesis is real and plants grow with such energy. Solar panels are great inventions. I love electricity. It is so useful. Whether to run a car or a light or a battery or a napkin, electricity is one of the greatest inventions there is. We are
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