Perhaps inkTrap is not described so well by the word "band" as it is by the mental image of a newly-hatched larval worm, wingless and wiggling nervously. Since this box seems to be intended for somehow biographical purposes, I will now relate various informational facts descriptive of my human identity. I am twenty-one. I have been playing the guitar and dabbling in music for roughly three years. I have no idea what I'm doing, really. It's great. Contrary to popular belief, incompetence actually makes you stronger, kind of like wrestling a feral grizzly, or getting shot. I am typing into a box. Words are appearing there. This is not the first box I have transformed in such a way. I type into boxes like this one very often, even daily. The typing is done in english. It sometimes goes on to be read by other human beings. I am a mammal. Though squirrels are also mammals, I am not similar to a squirrel. I may seem a bit odd to you. Alternatively, I may not. Currently my left foot is not wearing a sock. On my right foot, there similarly are no socks to be found. There are socks in my bedroom, however. I'm presenting myself in a way that carefully elaborates on the most important, need-to-know facets of my whatever. I have not yet mentioned oranges, though doing so would be irrelevant. It's possible that I like ketchup, but actually I don't. I can be described using adjectives. "Lubricous" is an adjective. I can not be described with the word "lubricous." I am not lubricative. I do not lubricate. I cannot be used as a lubricant. I hope I've been efficiently educative with my time here in this box. Educative enough that you feel as confused as I do about all of this.