Well... My name is Gerik Fowler and this is (I think) the fourth time I've attempted to create a blog. Each attempt saw it's eventual shutdown when I came to the conclusion that in reality, no one really actually cares what I have to say about anything. At least not in this medium. Not really. I usually give up after one or two posts, but I can absolutely guarantee that this new creation will reach into the much respected and highly sought after double digit existence. I'm promising ten, and nothing more. We can thank my college english class for this new found dedication. Funny what one is willing to do for a good grade. Funny that I actually care about my grades. Well funny to me at least, in the sense that I've never really actually cared about my grades until this year. In elementary nothing was necessarily difficult. Junior High didn't bring any problems either. I'm pretty sure I didn't get my first B until Freshman year. The year homework (actual homework, I'm not talking about vocabulary words or the sheet of math problems one can finish on the bus ride to school) decided to rear it's ugly head and spit in my face laughing at my intellect and devouring my gpa. Homework... the simple utterance of the word used to somehow magically convince the bile in my stomach to come up and check out how everything was going on in the world of my mouth. Tongue in cheek and teeth chattering, I swallowed it down, acknowledging that I should PROBABLY do it.. But never did. School was something I was always good at, but never enjoyed. I mean.. just because you have no trouble finding your way home after making three left turns doesn't mean you're destined to play baseball. There was absolutely no way I was bringing work home with me. My parents didn't bring work home with them, why should I have to? I understood it. Well enough to pass the tests, and I figured that's all anyone really cared about anyway. WELL as cool as I felt about living on the edge and playing by own rules, my grades didn't much agree. I graduated high school by the skin of my teeth. Thankfully, I scored high enough on the SAT to  receive an academic scholarship. Which I then flushed down the toilet in my first and only semester at Lubbock Christian University. So there I was. A college drop out with two dead end jobs and an apartment I could barely afford. That's where being "smart" with no drive gets you. Four years in our nations Air Force kicked that habit pretty quick. Eight and half weeks quick. Coming out of basic I was a new man. Coming out of the Military and I'm now a man with a plan. In my first semester back in an educational setting since the year I graduated high school in 2009 I managed to pull off a 4.0. Which. Was. AWESOME.
I'm a rambler.
I'm a poet.
My parents are in a motorcycle club and I have over twenty tattoos.
I'm diagnosed Bipolar 1 and fight daily to overcome stigma.
I'm sure I'll tell you plenty of interesting things about myself in our time together but for now the one thing I want you to know is that..

I do my homework.
Which makes me a blogger.