How Interesting is a Worm?

It would be rude to not introduce myself to you, no? Do people still do that? I have no idea! Oh, but do bear with me. Brevity is not my strong suit. BUT I AM WORKING ON IT!

My name is Daniel Last-Name-Omitted. Some may know me as, insufferale Reverend Grey elsewhere. Though I have gone by many names, online, over the years, I've stuck with this moniker for several years now. That being said, I should probably clear something up now that I think about it. This name has very little religious and/or spiritual connotation.

I've never really had a moment to say it in black and white. Why I chose this name. Simply put, black and white outlooks on what life has to offer, well, they're a drag. I follow this ideology religiously; nothing is for certain, I am not infallible, nobody is. Reverend + Grey. It just made sense. It took a while for me to discover why I gravitated towards this name in the beginning. But enough about that. What do I do?

As far as personal interests go, I feel compelled to challenge myself in most everything I do. Since COVID, I buckled down and started writing fiction. Initially I was aiming for young adult, coming of age stories. This later developed into a deeper fascination with horror--something I grew up reading, watching, and immersing myself in. Goosebumps and the Bailey School Kids were my gateway.

There was also a mountain of non-fiction dinosaur books depicting gore galore and one particularly unsettling set of eyes. That was probably the first thing to ever really scare me. Some big bulging eyeballs on some artistic depiction of a reptilian humanoid tucked between carnivorous titans tearing animals to shreds.

Couple that with some CSI Miami(?) that I probably shouldn't have been watching, night terrors, chronic nightmares, and neglect steeped in paranoia and you've got yourself a bonefied me. But that all sounds so miserable, at least I think it does. Truthfully, I could not be happier about what I have seen and experienced. If I missed out on things like this I wouldn't be nearly the same as I am today... I don't know if that would be for the better or not. ANYWAY!

Maybe I'll do some writing on some of the media I grew up with. I'm sure some folks will be able to resonate with it.

These days, I write literary fiction and new-weird. Being pinned down by dull cliches and genres as a whole just doesn't appeal to me. My writing has gone from strictly horror to, what I would describe, as surrealist, meloncholic, self-loathing with an optimistic undertone. Even if my character's body deforms into something resembling little more than a mass of twitching flesh, there IS a positive turn coming... probably. Self-mutilation is, after all, the process of peeling away what you hate most--discovering something beautiful, strangled by snake-like viscera. Now if only I could finish something to satisfaction.

I know what you're thinking. "Oh god, he's a writer. Some pretentious twat that sits on his ass, cries about other people online, and jerks off four times a day." I would like to assure you that, under no circumstances, do I jerk off four times a day. Maybe twice, but that's it! Oh, and the other stuff too. "Wait wait wait, I know you Grey. I know you're a pretentious snob online." How dare you insinuate such things that are absolutely correct!? Oh wait, that's a segue.

In my later teens, as I grew further exposed to things online, I discovered various artists of all sorts. One such person being H. P. Lovecraft. He was my gateway, as he was for many, into the wider realm of cosmic horror. His writing style is, in my opinion, fucking obnoxious. And I love it. I loved it so much so that I proudly paraded pompus purple prose propped by prodigous vocabulary. In hindsight, making those projects public was a poor choice. You know the ones. Or you don't.

This part of things is getting a bit long now, so let me just say this. I will shill for Algernon Blackwood's rotten corpse any day of the week. That man had a gift, blending casual and "educated" prose with ease. If I could capture even a fraction of his capabilities, well, I think I might just start going to church.

As for other focuses and pastimes. I am quite partial to art of all sorts. I thank my mother for that above all else. Every creative bone in my body I owe to her, her father, mother, and so on. I play the guitar (poorly), paint (poorly), draw (poorly), and a few other odds and ends that just aren't coming to mind. You could say I have a lack of self-esteem. That I am doubtful of myself across the board. You're absolutely correct. Which couldn't be further from the truth. Hmm, I'm noticing a pattern here.

Further, I shoot archery. I used to shoot competitive some years ago. Not anymore, but I still love the feeling of loosing a bow, skinning my forearm every now and then, and landing a pinpoint shot on the lowest scoring target. Thankfully, where I WILL be aiming doesn't take much skill to hit. It's cathartic, really. If you have never shot before, fix that. Maybe I'll write about that at some point.

Grievances aside, I truly do love myself in a twisted sense of the word. Who knows when we will depart. I just know that I'm not at my station just yet. Hopefully, I won't be the only on the train when that time comes. Some days I have to wonder though.

>CRTL + C█