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[bookprojectus-blog]

So you have picked up this book, and congratulations! You’ve opened it. You have already gotten farther with this book than with 99% of books you have ever seen. I’m flattered. If you are anything like me, you will lose interest in this book like you have with the hundreds of other books you have flipped open to the first page to read it. I guess my only option here is to say, keep reading this because, even if you feel like you wasted your time, maybe you got something out of it. Maybe you are only reading this book out of curiosity. It doesn’t look like a normal book, and you definitely didn’t come across it by any normal means. Wherever you found this book, it didn’t belong. It’s like when you find a wrapped candy on the ground, it means a little bit more than if somebody just handed it you, because you found it. It tastes a little bit sweeter, but maybe I am just gross for being the kind of guy who eats candy he finds on the ground. In any case, before I really get going about myself, let me make some near baseless assumptions about you. You are probably kind of weird. Hey, don’t get offended or anything, I am too, and maybe I’m wrong and you are the most normal person in the world, maybe you're the kind of person who takes pride in how center of the road you are. But judging by the fact that you are reading this, it means that you felt the need to pick up this piece of text from wherever you found it and open it up, and take the few minutes out of your busy day to get this far down the page. Already you are set apart from most of the world, who either walked by this book without a second thought, or picked it up, opened it, saw a wall of text and set it back down. Congratulations again. If you are still reading this I’m very flattered.

You might be the kind of person who likes to listen instead of talk. As my friend Steve would say, you are probably the kind of person who likes to give oral more than they like to receive it. You probably like cats more than dogs. Maybe I’m wrong about every one of these assumptions, in which case, more congratulations are in order for you, as you have defied all of my expectations about the kind of person who would read something like this, and yet you are still reading. Anyways, if you have gotten this far down the page you are probably hooked for whatever reason, possibly out of curiosity about where this is going, or maybe I just nailed every assumption about you and you feel compelled to keep reading. Maybe you believe in destiny, and if you do, that you’ve found it. You might ask, why is this piece of writing so intent on communicating with me? And if you didn’t think that before, you probably are now. Well reader, I fully intend to answer any questions you might have, and hey, if you know me then you can just come straight to me to ask me, in fact I encourage it. However, chances are you don’t know me. But chances are, at least if you are reading this in 2017, you could know me, and in fact, you have probably seen my face before. This piece of writing is ultimately about me, yes, but it is also about you. You will only be as invested in this story as you choose to be, and you will only take as much out of it as you choose to. This could be the most influential thing you ever read, but only if you choose for it to be. Just know that I am an expert on nothing and everything contained in this text is written by somebody who is probably about the same age as you. I want this book to be an adventure for you, and for me, but that I will get into later.

This piece of writing is my attempt at continuing a strange trend I have found myself following throughout my life, and that is the art of the freestyle. The use of this word has certainly changed over the course of history, as all words do. Some dictionaries might tell you that freestyle is, “a contest or version of a sport in which there are few restrictions on the moves or techniques that competitors employ”  Fair enough, but that’s not quite what I am going for. In music, a freestyle is “a style of improvisation with or without instrumental beats, in which lyrics are recited with no particular subject or structure”. This is a bit more in tune for what I am trying to do here. I guess you could think about this piece of text as a diary for my thoughts, but not only for me to read, my only hope coming out of this experiment is that somebody might gain something from reading this. I don’t really care what that is, but the idea of leaving some impact on somebody is appealing to me. Even if that impact is so shallow as an hour or two of reading, that then can be turned around as you say, “wow that sucked” I’m not pretending to be a good writer, and I sincerely hope nobody thinks of me as such. I am going to leave this piece unedited and unfinished on purpose, I want you to have the feeling of discovery when reading this. Like a little feeling of joy that you may have stumbled across something that pretty much anyone else in the world hadn’t seen. When I was younger I liked to trespass. I wanted to break rules, to rebel, but at the time I was young, still naive about drug use and too much of a coward to do anything that might get me into real trouble. I trespassed a lot, I thought it was really cool being in a place where I wasn’t supposed to be. Sometimes I found cool places, and when I did I really felt like I had accomplished something. Like I had made a permanent memory, I had found something that I never would have found if I hadn’t broken the rules. I have many good memories of being in places I wasn’t supposed to be. When I was in highschool many of our classrooms had doors connecting them, these doors were seldom used, as in your free time, why would you ever want to be spending it in a classroom, let alone traveling through doors that just lead to other classrooms. Well, in any case, one time, for whatever reason I decided after school to go through these doors, for no reason in particular, except that I guess that I wanted to do something that other people hadn’t done. After going through several of these doors I had actually come across a secret room no bigger than a closet between two classrooms, I was astounded, I had been attending this school for three years and had explored plenty, I thought I had seen it all. Anyways in this small room was a safe, I’m talking like a giant metal safe, maybe three feet tall deep and wide, and guess what, it was open. Well, at this point I really had no choice did I? I rooted around inside, and sadly, instead of being filled with treasures it was filled with books and papers. Well I wasn’t particularly interested in any of the books inside, I mean, I could see a book anywhere, I went for the papers. Now, it's not really important what was on those papers, but believe me it was interesting. The point is, is that I had found something and was now reading something I was never supposed to see. And that's the thrill of it. See, if I told you what was contained on those papers, it wouldn’t be my secret anymore, and the contents of those papers would lose all value to me. But that’s only because I set myself up to value them like I did.