Since English language my mother tongue, no surprise

Since English language my mother tongue, no surprise... etymology encurtains, encompasses, and encapsulates healthy fixation why I can spend countless hours engrossed with printed material courtesy select magazines or books, plus aiming to craft satisfactory poems or prose as an avocation to share with anonymous well seasoned cyber surfers, and perhaps - wishful thinking of mine being celebrated, lauded, touted, et cetera posthumously as a storied author, one of the greats of the twenty first century - ha. As a recipient of social security disability for scads of years - maybe half live of mein kampf, (courtesy a diagnosis of schizoid personality disorder, though Renee Cardone, a former long time therapist linkedin with SpringFord Counseling attested that social anxiety, a more accurate explanation) regarding mental health affliction of yours truly evident within eminent domain of these lovely bones since late mother brought forth scrawny baby post parturition January thirteenth mcmlix. When sitting facing the external modest size external screen synchronized to reflect what these fingers type on the MacBook Pro (Retina, 15-inch, Mid 2015) laptop (like now - at approximately nineteen hundred hours May eighteenth two thousand and twenty four), a profusion, infusion, and confusion of ideas burst forth once a title identified for particular writing sample. Dearth of travel experiences severely limits potential excellent material to access, hence outlook grim actually nonexistent to tell terrific tall true globe trotting tales spanning across webbed wide world, thus cerebral activity limited associated with imagined people, places, and things (some stranger than fiction - ha). The milieu of the Internet a dogsend to help expedite gestating, mutating, and rotating brilliant ideas within the mind of me, a modest mild mannered male, who cannot help but wince with dismay how father time, albeit surreptitiously unbidden sneaks and steals away precious days, weeks, months, et cetera, whereby a formerly scared, nevertheless, happy go lucky and charming little lad particularly when ensconced safely and soundly within his boyhood bedroom far away from the madding crowd and the deafening sound of silence trumpeting, signalling, rocketing mortal man at lightspeed impossible mission to thwart how tempus fugit doth captcha forsaken sweet dreams swept away forever. At long last, when head merges with pillow deep sleep offers temporary escape into zee land, and reprieve from unwanted mailer daemons potent images actually manifested selves of mine subconscious sphere breathing, blinking, and begetting life videre licet into transient transparent people each rapid eye movement cycle gifting illusory persona grata super powers generated within a flash dancing icon.