I am Kyria Abrahams — writer of many important books, one of which
has actually been published on purpose. I am overjoyed to make of your acquaintance today. If you were a baby, I would grasp your soft, chubby hand and kiss it. I might then inquire as to the thoughts of a baby. What are they? Can you feel anguish? Do you feel cheated by food? These are some questions I might put forward to you, baby. But alas, they go unanswered, for I am continually thwarted by babies.
I would like to begin by expressing my gratitude to Powells for the opportunity to speak directly to you for the period of one business week, that is: five days, or, if you prefer: one surreal, apocalyptic 120-hour day with abrupt changes in weather patterns and five fluctuations in the accessibility of the light from earth's sun. It's up to you! I subscribe to a Laissez-faire philosophy towards the concept of "time," and since childhood I have strongly believed it to be a matter of personal preference.
No matter how you choose to read my blog, I am most grateful for your attention! I appreciate that your attention is valuable, as is the price of Ritalin purchased off Craigslist.
Perhaps you're on the fence about committing to reading five full days of this blog. Perhaps you have been hurt in the past when a loved one abandoned you at the altar, or wore your prescription sunglasses without asking, thereby stretching them out to an unwearable width. Perhaps you have been stabbed by someone who pinky-swore to you they were "through with stabbing."
In this case, I simply ask for your undeserved trust. I assure you that this blog will not haunt your dreams. It won't be like that troubled stray dog you thought you could save. You won't have to drown anything in the dead of night this time. And yes, everyone in town knows about that.
I promise only this: if you continue to read this blog, you will find that you have been fundamentally and eternally changed for the better as a human being. Forever.
For example, you will begin to grow pumpkins competitively. I don't mean that I will give you instructions on how to grow pumpkins competitively; I mean that you will actually start to do this, without giving a second thought to the task you are suddenly undertaking. And, what's more, your pumpkins will be exceedingly special. Yes, we're talking 2nd place or better. Forever. So, keep reading!
Here are a few of the more common expected outcomes of reading my guest-blog on Powells.com:
- You will be featured shirtless on the front of romance novel and will garner the reputation among your friends and coworkers as "a rakish rogue." Or, if female, you will forever be referred to as a "a hearty lass with half an eye cast firmly toward the sea."
- You will become an elected local official in Peachham, Vermont after running as part of the Moosedoodle Checkered Cab Ice Milk Party (note: in Vermont, this is not a independent party).
- You will live to be 100 but inexplicably die at the age of 87.
- You will harness the power to control the changing of the seasons, but this will have a dark side. Those around you will bicker nonstop about which season is the most enjoyable. Some prefer crisp fall afternoons filled with apple ignoring and leaf despising. Others cling to the summertime nostalgia of a childhood sunburn fight. Still others enjoy winter, because they are fat. You will satisfy no one and die alone.
- If weather-control isn't your bag, perhaps you'd prefer to become a living saint. In this scenario, elderly widows will grab at your ankles, believing that merely touching the hem of your raiment will cure strange diseases such as acute ice cream headaches and Very-Much-Incurable Rickets.
- Finally, you will gain mastery over the semicolon. Forever.
Well, I could go on! But I think I've made my point, which is: after reading my guest-blog, you are going to be born anew. Your current world view will soon shatter like a discarded ice-swan centerpiece from a wedding where everyone silently believed the marriage was a mistake. And in its place shall rise greatness. And cold water.
(Note: If you have any issues with pumpkins, such as an allergy or a psychosocial aversion due to pumpkin-related trauma, you will instead be asked to raise competitive tofu. I recognize that this isn't very glamorous, nor is it an actual thing. But it's not my fault that you didn't take to the pumpkins.)