Hello, It's not too uncommon the words are just abstract clouds of shapes, and colors, dancing on the precipice of my tongue. Every now and then, inspiration hits, maybe this time it'll infect me, the only relief is to commit it to paper. So here, I hope to learn, and grow, I want to write a book my son will love, on my favorite subject, deep contemplative meditation, lucid dreaming, OBEs, maybe throw in some dark novels on child abuse, murder since I have a bit of experience with such, describing it will be easy, as long as I don't choke on my own vomit. I've been told that my experiences are impossible, improbable at best, perhaps perfect for fantasy though, a venue I can unleash and extrapolate unhinged to what society deems appropriate for consensus reality. So here's to writing the impossible.