Caffeine-fueled, chain-smoking insomniac BENJAMIN ANDERSON is a prolific writer with broad, passionate interests that include the paranormal, psychology, cosmology — essentially anything that deals with the unknown and the deeper questions underlying existence and consciousness. Writing, along with the visual arts, functions not only as his therapy but as a psychological survival technique, for it is here that he can give vicious man birth to his cyclonic subjective activity.
It is here, through the medium of writing, that he tries his damnedest to capture the occasional, fleeting good moments in the amber of language, to ensnare precious Kodak moments shimmering here and there across the worldline of his soul in webs of words, tapestries of text. It is here that he finds catharsis, where he can work the dirt out of the spiritual sore, engage in the bloodletting of the soul, and subject the prima materia so procured to intellectual, alchemical processes aimed of transmuting the shit of his life into gold, the piss of it all to wine.
Much of what results ultimately finds it’s way into one of the two blogs he currently maintains:
… began as an open, online diary and dumping ground for the occasional essay revolving around any number of issues of interest or concern and often enough strange, personal experiences, though later devolved into a repository for poetry, typically written in an inebriated state, and of hit-or-miss quality in the author’s sober opinion.
…focuses on documenting the author’s dreams, strange memories and the periodic anomalous episodes in his life and displaying what he explores and gathers in his ensuing quest for greater understanding and an appropriate context for his experience.
Feedback on either blog is welcome, but he is a hypersensitive little shit, so please, be gentle.