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Self Portrait

Let me break out my fountain pen, paint you a picture: A senior in college feeling sort of like a grifter, a drifter afloat in a world he’s still learning, writing poems prose and punny lines to keep the firewood in his heart burning. His stomach still turning, ties itself into tight knots, you’d think four years of this would knock the locks off the shoebox, but a world still spinning makes it kinda hard to focus. What’s the point of this, anyway? Oh, intro! Right! Focus!

It’s nice to meet you all, my name is Yoder, Bryce Allen and I’ve been tasked to do some writing so your seatbelts you should fasten. I’m not sure how many there are of you of reading on the other end, but if you read this and you like, hit me up and be my bestest friend. I’ve spent six semesters studying philosophy and writing, I’ve got one point five to go, then I’m outta here like lightning. But for roughly twenty-five weeks, they’re letting me bend all your ears – take you to mysterious places, make you face your deepest fears. I’ll write lots about death cause it’s kinda fascinating, and I’ll write a lot about the life that always keep me waiting to explore it ‘til I’m older, as if twenty-one years ain’t enough. What’s a guy gotta do to see the world he lives in?

What? Oh! You probably don’t know me – I’ve commuted for the last three years, but I promise that I’m cool! Or maybe not, but that’s okay, my dears, ‘cause whether or not you see this, I’ll still bear for you my life. You can tune in every week to see me go under the knife and expose a tad more of myself for all of you to see. So my friends, it’s nice to meet you! Was it nice for you to all meet me?

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