How John Hal came to be:
It was early in the morning, and I’d barely woken up. Thoughts of anguish and torment fresh in my head. I sat down on my Facebook and began to write. I poured my being into two conversations with myself with no rational reason behind my actions. I waited for a while, and later in the day, she commented. She asked where I’d been comming up with these wonderful things. I said that my mind is a wonderous place, but my mouth fouls the thoughts whenever I vocalize them. From then on, we talked. I don’t know why I did it, but I opened myself to her. I asked her if she thought I should die. I had been planning to off myself on that friday, two bottles of sleeping pills. Quick and painless. She told me that I shouldn’t. She said that she found more value in our conversations over the past few days than she’d found in a long time. I believed her, and I kept talking to her. She loves music, absolutely loves it. She literally has a song for every sentance possible. As we talked and listened to eachother’s words and songs, my heart reached out to her, and one day, I realized that I loved her. I had to say it online, I would have never found the courage to tell her face to face. I told her, and it was one of the best feelings I’d ever had, to open myself to someone and not be rejected. My old name, the one associated with all my pain and suffering, needed to be replaced, so that there would be a title that fit the new me. I chose John Hal, and by god, I’ve never been happier.
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