Hello, I am Sam. Sam I am.
What you are about to read is something I like to call ‘word soup.’ But technically you could say that’s a misnomer. For what I’ve assembled would be better described as ‘word vomit.’ Because it’s not edible. And what I have written is not necessarily good. (I guess it depends on who you talk to when it comes to vomit. That is, if anyone likes to talk about it. We all know how much cats love to cough up fur. And to induce vomiting after being poisoned is often sound advice.) The point is, soup is yummy and vomit is not. If anyone feels I should change the title, feel free to say so in the comments section or on my profile. But that’s enough of that.
Anyway, as time goes on I hope this shall become a vast collection of things I’ve written. A concoction. Like soup. It could be poetry either finished or not. It could be a short story, possibly from back in the day. It could be a journal entry from a day in my life. An essay. A letter. Notes. Lyrics. Thoughts or opinions. Even fragments of prose and verse that I have yet to use, or that didn’t make the final cut. Leftovers, if you will, which I have combined to make a soup, and have… regurgitated for you. Yes. I am a bird, and you all are my hatchlings in this analogy.
If for some reason you don’t like this project of mine, do tell me. Though I may ignore the comment and move on. Keep in mind this all is in effort to combat my writer’s block. Whenever it should arise.
Without further ado… soup.