How to explain myself? That’s like asking somebody to ‘explain neurobiology to a caterpillar in three minutes…’
Basically, I’m around fifteen. I’m around five foot something. I’m around a hundred and some pounds. I like cats, bats, and books. My name’s not actually OnceaBasementDog- that’s a reference to an idea for a band name I once had, which is a pretty darn good band name if I do say so myself.
I like to write– in fact, I write a lot. In my writing I sound cooler than I actually am, so don’t let that throw you off- in real life, OnceaBasementDog (that is me) is not remotely as cool as you may think she is. This mysterious fifteenish character can throw a mean fastball, rides her bike, likes video games and Cassandra Clare novels, likes weird music and the idea of one day becoming a hippie. She’s been seen walking the wrong direction from school a few times, and on sunny afternoons you might spot her sitting in the park with the neighbourhood cat on her feet as she reads Jack London short stories instead of being in class.
There you go, that’s me. Asperger syndrome freaky cat girl. (Will you come to my house in ten years with my fifty three cats? Please visit me.) There’s not much else to say, and if you’ve gotten through this whole rambling ‘about yourself’ segment, then thanks. My friends who might or might not read this at any point in time certainly won’t get this far.
Yours truly, OnceaBasementDog.

This is a picture I drew, titled ‘Garfunkel and the Squirrel.’ Don’t ask me why. It just is.

[Writing is a struggle against silence. — Carlos Fuentes]

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