My name is Samuel. Part philosophical like Immanuel, Immanuel Kant, but he can’t put the words together to deliver like I can. Some say it’s a gift others a curse, but things could be worse than having the gift of gab, upon paper I dab a pen and words flow freely like lyrics filling song lines. Others try but only sputter and mutter phrases that try to compete with my elite syntax, sit back, relax, and let Lax teach you a lesson on word progression and order. Others are on the border but not quite across it and I am the mayor, governor, and eventually president atop a cabinet, which I decide and reside upon as its chair in the main chair at the top of the stairs, you will find me. But I warn you, do not ascend the spiraling staircase blindly. When you finally, reach my level you will understand that these words free flow like the acoustics from a jazz band who has been playing together seemingly forever and in unison with no guidance or direction only vision and perfection. Because that is what happens when you master word progression. So as warned, ascend at your own digression but make sure to listen to my words as they are lyrical, you might still be cynical and critical of what I say but my words shall not fall on deaf ears for I do not speak them I write them and type them for you to read. I hope you like them.
