Checking in on the Blog

I'm not clear on whether the name of the poet or the poem is Gabriel Gudding, but either way I liked it. Thanks for sharing, Matthew. Kinda wish I could figure out how this thing is structured . . . wanted to just comment on the poem, but I couldn't because it itself seemed to be a comment on your abstract. Confusing. Reminds me a film I saw just last Halloween, "The Cube." In the film, a group of unwitting human beings act as lab rats in a huge maze of room after colored room, built into a cube and filled with booby traps. It makes no sense. They just wander about and hope they'll find their way without dying. That's the blog to me at the moment. I'm in here, I'm wandering about, and I don't know where I'm going. Just like in the film, it's easy to open doors, you just don't know where they'll lead. I found Haley behind one door. Weird.

So Haley, if you're in here somewhere, give two hard stomps and I'll follow the sound. Matthew, I know you're here, you're in almost every room. Scott, you were around a couple weeks ago, but I'm sure you must have died of digital starvation by now.

But back to real life. Picture a boy-man named Matt. He is young, yet he is married, and he is on the verge of graduating from college. Knows he what he is to do? Not a chance. Knows he how to cope with the day in, day out pressures of investing in a practicum he is sure he only puts effort into because it will buy him a degree? No. He is a bumbling fool, this Matt, and it is clear the blog will take him in time. For now, however, he will wait until the day of his reckoning, on which the light will shine in on the dim shadows of who-knows-what-the-hell-is-going-on-in-my-lifedom. And when the light cometh, he will see all.

For now, the latest booby trap has rendered him blind. For he knows not how deep of shit he will be in if he is late to his Valentine's Day dinner . . .