Points to you if you have Pink Floyd in your head now. You're welcome.
In this day and age of being able to gauge the relative success of something you've said, it's almost refreshing to have no measure whatsoever on this site.
On most social media platforms there is that little heart that sends forth the implication that someone, somewhere felt a certain amount of adoration for your contribution to the world. People collect them like baseball cards, basking in the glow of topping 100, or 1000, or even more. On Twitter it's also the retweets, where someone is so impressed by your cleverness that they effectively want to say "hey everybody, look at the great thing this person said."
It's usually not actual love, however, just a grunt of satisfaction as they scroll past.
Well, except for that picture of me in the bow tie. That brought all the love.
My brother's kind of rocking the intense baseball vibe there too, if I'm honest.
But here, in this little corner of the ethersphere that I've claimed, I have no way of knowing if I'm talking to myself or thousands. The likeliest scenario is that no one reads this regularly and things will only be seen initially when someone first comes to the site.
And that's perfectly fine, because it means I can say what I want without fear of ridicule or repercussion.
I wish I could be one of those people who lived their life like that regardless, with no concern for how they looked or what people thought. But I'm not. I'm this guy who writes stories and is currently telling himself it's okay to say what he wants.
So, unbridled and unrestricted, here I go:
Mushrooms taste like what they're grown in.
God that feels good to get off my chest. Hopefully I didn't just destroy my career before it even got started.