Ink And Reason

They say the third grade report card is a window into a child’s soul. Mine, however, seemed to scream “future anarchist” and “potential vampire lord.” While my teachers saw “disrupting class discussions” and an “alarming fascination with the local cemetery,” I was simply a budding philosopher disguised as a pint-sized Socrates in a grass-stained shirt. These early “experiments,” as they so quaintly put it, were fueled by a burning desire to understand the fundamental questions of existence – how to effectively argue your point (even if that point was the merits of trading your entire lunch for a shiny beetle) and, more importantly, what awaited us on the other side of the big dirt nap. Little did they know, I was merely ahead of the curve, conducting crucial research long before existentialism became trendy and cemeteries became the new yoga studios. Buckle up, dear reader, for this is the story of a life lived on the edge – the edge of the sandbox, the edge of teenage rebellion, and the occasional edge of reason.