I am A.M. Gant, a twentysomething SHIT, WAIT, thirtysomething geek-creature stuck somewhere between surreality and suburbia. And this is… whatever it decides to turn into.
All I can tell you is this: There are words inside my head, and they want to get out. Specifically, they would like to rest on a page for a while, until some eyeballs pick them up and put them inside other heads.
If that is okay with you, and if your head is a head that would like more words inside of it, consider allowing your eyeballs to graze these pages.
If that is not okay with you, I must warn you that I will continue to emit words anyway.