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Name: Quintin Bressler
Sex: Male
Location: Earth
Age: 1,023
Occupation: Cytotechnologists

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I gave up on the world who gave up on me.
General Information

I like to believe in 1983 there was a nuclear disaster and after the atomic detonation I walked out of green clouds and found my way into central Pennsylvania. In the early years of my life I attended Susquenita located deep into wilderness forrest until graduating in 2002. Shortly after high school I moved to the hills of Tennessee with a good friend of mine that goes by the name of hoffa. Being a musician, I played in a backup band for Jamie Bedel in Nashville while my day time gig was a technician for MediFax which is now part of WebMD. After tons of fun and growing experience I moved a year later into Mechanicsburg Pennsylvania where I took a job at Trader Publishing as a web developer. This is also about the time I tried to duplicate the feeling of being young and having no worries with alcohol. I played music around the area with some good friends until I eventually moved to Ohio. I played in a duet with Casandra Rose. It was a great time as we got to play northern and southern Ohio and we met some pretty cool cats. Now I'm currently living back in Central Pennsylvania and hoping to move to Boston in the future.

Interests

- my girlfriend sarah
- music
- poetry
- philosophy
- airplanes
- polka dot (kickass german wine)
- european lifestyle
- writing
- php, linux and mysql
- doors slamming
- sounds of ice melting in my alcohol
- women with long legs
- #1's from the breakfast menu
- boston red sox

Things that bother me

1) petty bitches
2) people who read star magazine
3) beer drinkers that think mixed drinks are for fags
4) people with shopping carts at walmart
5) people who get married at 19

We must not construct our words but paint pictures for desolate minds. Paintings to differ the consideration of the abstract truth that could separate the facts from you and I. Gladly I would paint portraits of you and I in calm degrees, but what we do not understand is the boundaries of each canvas.

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when the morning tip toed in
the sound of night sighed
restless wondering of only time
to which we only wonder why

and the window of the morning
which was the window of the night
comes over us like mad children
playing with what we thought was eternal
but now realize it was only time.

~Quintin~


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