Esperance

I would like to introduce myself as Billy G. Thorne. It is not my real name, a pseudonym, if you will. And welcome to my side of the internet. It is small. Upcoming. Unheard of. It gives the impression of being on the dark web. For us two to have met, you must have been down some rabbit hole to locate me. But, if you have gotten this far in my excerpt, welcome to my virtual diary. Thank you for accepting the invitation. I hope you stay. How did you end up here? Why are you here? Let me tell you my thoughts.

I turned 24 this year. Yes, 1999. The year of the rabbit, the last of the 20th century. Around my birthday, I started a new job for the umpteenth time, not in a relationship, and I was fucking lonely. For my 24th birthday, instead of going to a gay bar, strip club, Cabo, Maldives, or a fancy restaurant, I went to Barnes and Noble. I had one goal in my mind: to find a book that demonstrates the monstrosity of loneliness to its core. But, during my expenditure, I could not locate a book that fit the bill of what I wanted. In the books that I came across, the main character, who is in the thick of their "loneliness," has incredible, selfless friends and family and an excellent social networking job. And, of course, they fall in love; that is a given.

Call me a contrarian, but that was the opposing side of the spectrum of what I wanted. I did not want to read a happy ending, even if that is what I covertly crave. So, in the words of Toni Morrison, "If there's a book that you want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it." But, I ain't writing no book. Reasonably, I am still determining what I am writing, because I have no idea what I am doing here.

Welcome to the world of Billy G. Thorne.