The PICTURE OF ANA GRAY...an introduction to an EPIC and aspiring life
  Once upon a time, I was bored and started a blog. Voici the stories that I am about to tell! So I was laying around in my bed when I heard thumping beneath me. Who were the culprits inflicting this raucous upon my repose? Why the noisy baboons on the floor below me. The music blasted and hummed so eerily that I'd yet to get a blink of slumber. Henceforth on my feet I fumble into leather boots and slam the door into oblivion. I take a bowl of oatmeal with me as I sit before the window ponder a life yet to be lived- my life...unchanging- constant. I shovel the gruel into my lips and wonder what it would feel like to destroy the baboons' existence.
   Once I ran down the stairs and into the cold of the courtyard, the wind flung me forward and back, drying my lips under a gauze of rouge and I motor past the tunnel of death with such dexterity I feel myself an athlete of epic proportions. I slam my key into the lock of my mailbox, and discover that nothing is there. Nothing is ever there. Story of my life. What would it feel to open this little flinging ingress and be pounded with the wrath of a million love letters.
  Well there are no love letters. Just the cold of this death tunnel bringing me forth to a life of conformity, one I've yet to transcend amongst all other predicaments.
  I am an exception...and I seek a form of compassion.
      Love, me
YOU WILL KNOW MY NAME ONE DAY