The beginning of nothing

I guess this is the beginning. The beginning of nothing really. This blog will certainly only result in the fact that I have a blog and not that this blog means anything to anyone else. In the entire world. Yes, it’s called the “world wide web”, but essentially this is just me on my computer in my kitchen in the suburbs of Philadelphia. This blog is nothing. Don’t read it. You’re not going to get anything out of it besides the fact that you just spent time reading words the whole world can see but nobody in the world will read. Stupid world. Pay attention to me! Where is my attention spot? The spot in my life where I become famous and girls like me enough to kiss me on the lips. Yes, smack dab on the lips. That’s what I need; a good kiss.
I would spend hours upon hours and days upon days just to get another human being to touch my lips with theirs. A kiss is sort of like a representative of humanity saying, “You know what? For some reason, weather it be your looks, the way you talk, or what you talk about; being your money, your art, your blog (fingers crossed), I will symbolically gesture through the physical action of connecting my lips to yours; that you are one of us. You deserve a kiss.” I’ve been looking for a representative for quite some while. Where do these representatives conduct their meetings?
In college, these representatives had meetings at parties and bars, but if you’re really lucky you can convince a representative from a class or lecture or some Penn State sponsored club to go on a meeting with you. This is what we call a “date.” A date is when a representative of humanity interviews you to see if (in my case) she thinks you are qualified for kissing and perhaps other activities (these activities are a bit more awkward and deserve some further explanation later in my stupid blog). But this “finding a date thing” takes work. Anyone can find some 20 year old representative at a party late at night when this said representative is more likely to be convinced you are worthy of a kiss. But to soberly ask somebody on a date is a far more difficult task.
The other week I was at the Free Library of Philadelphia carnival. Yes a carnival at a library. I was there with a friend, talking about two separate but equal books. One of which was entitled Push by Sapphire. It stood there next to another novel entitled, Precious: based on the novel Push by Sapphire. Yes, there were two different novels, next to each other, with two different covers and two different names but each contained the EXACT SAME WORDS. This brought some questions. Mostly; is Sapphire the literarily Madonna? Anyhooooo, there was an absolute gorgeous woman who came up to me and explained the lawful explanation behind the case of Push V. Precious: based on the novel Push by Sapphire. I immediately stopped thinking about the two exact novels and instantly fell in love with this woman who was rambling on about God knows what (books or something). She had died red hair, glasses, and a tight figure; she was a nerdy hot chick like the girl in the Disney classic, The Princess Diaries. Was that Disney? Ah, whatever, anyway this red haired Princess Diaries chick was actually talking to me. Yes me! The blogger! She had this long rant in which, for me, opened up a whole array of absolute reasons to continue talking. Finally an attractive woman gave me every reason in the world to talk to her. Yes, we will start about Sapphire then talk about other authors like Kerouac and Joyce. We would transfer the conversation to music and talk about the Velvet Underground and Wilco. Then I would ask her for some coffee. Coffee would turn into dinner. Dinner would turn into a walk. A walk would turn into a kiss. Then we would live happily ever after. Or. She will end her rant about Sapphire and I would only say, “Oh, that’s interesting.” Then walk away. Like I sadly did that Sunday morning.
That’s what I do. I freeze up. Yeah, I went to college. I know a little bit about the world (enough to bullshit through a conversation), but yet when it comes to talking and holding ground with an attractive woman, I freeze like a Penguin. See, but like a Penguin, although I am frozen and stay frozen, I keep on moving. I guess that’s what this blog is about. Mostly my romantic adventures. I am a single man living in the suburbs. Working at a job I have no business working at. Can I find love? Nah, probably not. But can I demean myself to the torture of looking for love. Yes. And in this process I’ll try to keep you updated my friends.
You think you know, but you have no idea, this is the diary of Charlie Marks.