I haven’t written a decent blog post in some time, the fact being traced back to the perennial tedium of my cyber life that has take place because dad’s car is getting repaired. Well, and quite some time before that, but that’s not the point.
So I had this nutty idea to start a YouTube channel, besides the two that I have, well three, and am not sharing with you. Back the point, I was thinking of starting one and actually just Vlogging into thin air. Yeah? I thought it was a bad idea too. Well, I already write that stuff, I might as well mouth it? No? Meh. I dunno. I’m bored =/ I’ve been photoshopping for almost 4 hours and drank my first mug of coffee in 23 days. Ignore my incessant blabbering. Or just fucking shut up and read on like a good bot. “If you can’t make a robot, be a robot.” –Grandpa Simpson
Nom nom, what do I blog about? Ongoings? Well, I had a slap awake fight yesterday from a close friend that felt like the emotional equivalent of a crushed femur. I need a shower. I need to go shopping for something that will not be revealed for privacy issues, which is a polite way to say it’s none of your fucking business even though I have no idea why I had the urge to be polite in the first place. Ah, always feels good to cuss. I’m on my away status stating the reason as “bleh”. I had heart-to-heart convos with a couple of busters I hardly know, and as I listened to their dilemmas that they were sharing quite candidly it occurred to me how my anti-social habit of going against the status quo, that is to say on the rare occasions that I actually see it, and actually talking to the pariah everybody rebuffs is one of the best things you could do to yourself.
On an unrelated note, stop saying good morning. It’s presumptuous, sappy, uncalled for and it won’t get you anywhere to have high hopes only to have them crash with a phone call or summat. Do what I do, say Morning. It saves your psyche a needless bounce.
Back to newsfeed. Two days ago I was upbraided for standing up to something. The usual. Further details on that are repetitive and are starting to claim a permanent slot of the things I get shunned for, so by all means fuck it.
I hate annuals. They have that fucked up nostalgic trait that forces all of your senses back to the day “IT” happened, and it’s almost impossible to stay in the now with your head plunged in that little window of time, which feels almost as if someone’s drowning you in by putting your head underwater long enough to feel like dying yet just in time for you to take a breath for no other reason than to prolong your life for yet another agonizing fit of “IT”. Being detached doesn’t help you with that, I should know. It’s almost as if that little number on the calendar strips you of all defence mechanisms to ostentatiously prove to you like a 3-year-old crying its lungs out for momentary attention that it’s not just another day. When that annual coincides with a friend’s birthday, supposedly a happy occasion, you shut up and hope to god you can keep that little 3-year-old motherfucker locked up in your head.
I need new posters since two of the ones I have up are ragged and torn beyond recognition, in part because of the temper on one of the housekeepers when armed with a dusting towel and in part just because everything seems prone to affliction by time and gravity, even if their parallel and weightless let alone not human. I found out that I like it when the breathing shows as you’re singing, even though it’s one of the leading mediocrities for vocalists, it humanizes the song. At that Jeff Buckley is very human. Perfect is ugly, Shrek is beautiful. Be an Onion, or better, an Ogre.
They both begin with Os anyway.
“I heard there was a secret chord, that David played and it pleased the Lord, but you don’t really care for music do ya? It goes like this the fourth the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift, the baffled king composing hallelujah…’
‘Well maybe there’s a god above, but all that I’ve ever learned from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya, and it’s not a cry that you hear at night, it’s not somebody who’s seen the light, it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah, Hallelujah”
Hallelujah – Jeff Buckley
Baffle out.
2 comments:
Are you going to tell me what an annual is wala eih?
No.
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