Closet Nerd

I grew up between the streets and the internet.
Some force spun strands of copper wire and L.E.D into my earth and sky.
And in the land I found myself browsing, the gods walk among us,
and bless us with flashdrives.
Our icons are made from shattered glass image effects in photoshops
and hang from open windows,
blow in the breeze of our pages
and our eyes hold the rod and cone congregations and give alms at the altars
where our fingers tap the empty spacebars and put space between the chaos of our words.

And sometimes underscores.

I gave birth to myself in this world and go by many names.
I sprung out of my own head, some call me Amadanues, my people call me Serates
my kin call me Verde.

You can google me.

My essence is all over the spider's web in electric jitters and fried circuts and deleted web pages and pornsite cookies. I have hidden this divine part of me in an external harddrive, and now Out myself to let the world witness the god in me that exists within the screen. I grew up between tackle football games and raids on Orcs. The evolution of the latchkey kid.

Where once man walked in 2d across dungeon screens as a plumber, I drape myself in armor of green and fight with swords and assault rifles and my conciousness becomes concious the border between two universes merging with my meory as the U.I. and annonymity as the superego, and my right hand as the Id, and my pride as the ego. I learned to sacrifice it on the spider's web in electric jitters and I learned how to write myself into existance.

And where once I was a lowborn black boy with high spirits and hopes upon his brow
on the spider's web with electric jitters, I became the self you see before you.