The Japanese (日本語) above this says "Dirty Words".  Basically.  Kitanai Kotoba. 
   汚い言葉 or "きたないことば" -     Just in case you were curious how the hiragana goes.  Oh, so, sometimes I might throw in little language lessons here and there.  I like languages.  The quotes make the ten ten look like double ten ten.  Twenty twenty?  I'm resisting the urge to make a Japanese math joke right now.
               So, here I am, my first legit blog post.  Uh oh.
      My first official blog post should be… special.  But, realistically, it’s sort of not.  I feel like this blog post has been posted by thousands or millions of other bloggers already.  The mission statement blog.
               So, to break it up, I’m also going to ramble.  I know.  Breaking new ground over here with the blog format.  Watch out, I might make a top ten list, too.  Insane!
               I won’t do that.
               Actually, I really hate list articles and blogs.  In fact, this is sort of an anti-blog, in a way.  It isn’t… but sort of.  I mean, it's literally a blog but I'll not be... hmm...
               Okay, I am making a point.  I won’t be posting things for shock value.  Moral, ethical, social, scientific or personal value… perhaps… but not shock value.  So, it's probably going to just be boring.  There’s a few things I hate about the internet writing format which has kept me away from it since the early 2000’s.
               Back then I ran a livejournal.  You probably haven’t even heard those words in more than ten years.  But, it’s true.  I wrote mostly about politics and such.  No one noticed.  Until I wrote some serious work about a proposed bill at the time.  Some people got mad and I realized that I really didn’t like it when people were mad at me for stating the truth.
               Because it was the truth.
               But, the thing is, these days… the truth is sorely lacking.  I’m a poet.  The name of this site is ‘send a poet’ and it has specific meaning for me.  I believe poetry, invariably, carries truth.  Good poetry tends to carry more truth.
               That’s sort of what makes a poet - a poet.  If rhyming were all that made a poet then anyone could do it.  To really write poetry a poet must be able to speak to the human condition.  To dive into that which is truly intrinsic to life.  And do so in a novel way.  It’s hard to do well.  But when it is done well, truth comes with it.
               People don’t care about poetry like they used to.  There was a time in history where poetry was the highest form of communication.  Now, tweeting seems to be the replacement.
               If poetry were personified as a bird it would be a swan.  A tweet is a featherless parrot with irritable bowel syndrome and Tourette’s.  The swan need only loose a single note and convey the depth of its experience.  The featherless parrot can’t stop shouting “hamster anus” at passersby.
               I use twitter, I use it to write poetry sometimes, even.
               I’ve become something of a 140 character poetry guru.  In fact, this condensed poetic form has helped me to craft some of the most pointed and gruelingly stark work in my life.  It’s also stifled some aspect of verbosity which the poet sometimes requires.
               I embraced it though.  I wanted to elevate the tweet.  For my trouble, the majority of people haven’t noticed.  That’s fine.  It’s poetry, and pretty dense poetry at that.  It’s just not… of the time.
               It seems if you’re not shouting obscenities or spewing psychotic, odious rants with chopped up syntax and several abbreviations, no one is all that interested in hearing.  That’s the world we live in.  Clickbait, headlines, soundbites, lies in short form, truth in the pages buried under meandering graphic details.
               I’m sure I’m not alone in lamenting the rise of subterranean speech, but my idea of discourse is simply something not heard of currently.  Everything is so polarizing.  So jacketed in buzzwords, rhetoric and the trappings of logical arguments hiding hysteria.  We hear sentences today that, without proper parsing and half an hour of head scratching, sound reasoned and sane but turn out to be so devoid of truth as to be virtually nonsensical.
               The crafting of these phrases and drumbeat talking points must be exhausting.  I know hearing them is.  Personally, I follow the truth as best I can.  I say ‘the best I can’ because I’m subject to bias, illogic and sentiment as much as the next person.  The only real difference is I have a faith in truth.  I’ve come to embrace facts over the years.
               My personal desire for time travel to be realistic doesn’t keep me from acknowledging that in order to do any such thing would require more energy than is contained in our entire galaxy.  That’s just realistic.  Assuming time isn’t simply a mental construct.  And then, ya know, my brain starts to melt in the back a little bit.
               I suppose I should discuss who I am.  I’ve said a lot and not much at all.  Haven’t I?

               Well, over the time I maintain this blog I hope to get closer to my readers but for now, the best introduction I can give you is: I’m complicated.
               I know people think they’re complicated but when I say it, I would hope it carries a different weight.
               Over time I’ll be discussing my artwork, which you should definitely check out.  I’ll also be discussing my life, my emotional life, the inner workings of this thing I call consciousness and hopefully drawing out some enlightened, reasoned arguments in the process.  I’ll also be posting poetry, the occasional humorous meme if I make one that day… just whatever.
               Disclaimers and deal breakers: I’m trans, I will absolutely talk about my future vagina (she has a name too), I will post dark (even disturbing) art, I’ll say things you won’t want to hear and if I have to I’ll say it with the caps lock on.
               I’m not your granddad’s blogger.  I’ll swear, I’ll make inappropriate jokes, I’ll make fun of myself and basically anyone I think has gone and done something dumb enough for me to write about.  Sorry in advance if I frighten you or shake your delicate sensibilities.
               So, go grab your pearls, what for clutching, have a cup of tea and wait patiently while I dredge up some insanity for my next post.  I’m sure it’ll be fun now that this little formality is out of the way.

Cheers, cupcake.