I don't mind them asking us to enter random assortments of numbers and letters, but this is crazy...
Don't ask me why, but I found this rather funny.
Somedays I grow tired of the tedium that life arches you into. There's this sense of participation that I just seem to find overwhelmingly bothersome on occasional days, almost like playing a game. Life throws you into this cycle of want and need, and work and success, and it just gets you down some times. When you take a self-reflective few minutes, and just step back out of your own skin to see the shape the world is carving you out of you just wish you could be less dependent on the things that control you. I sit in this room, a television on that I'm not even watching, and XBOXs, IPods, cell phones, littering this space I call home, and part of me longs to be content for it all to go. Part of me wishes I could find comfort in less than this. Part of me wishes that I wasn't tied down to work to support all of these products I convince myself are a requirement for living.
Newcastle failed to seal the deal this evening, but it was in someone elses graveyard, so a draw is a decent result. I had a good night with a significant other, and that makes four straight days now of decency. Ever since our celebration of the past year things have looked up; I think things might be okay as long as we're learning to be more adult than our stupidity and so-called pride lets us be.
Apparently it's true. I've been doing it quite a bit lately, and to my own surprise, I've been doing so willingly! I don't know where this vigor for work has come from, but it's entered my life like a surprising stranger, so it has. By this I mean the kind of stranger that perhaps professes, as if by random, a fondness for every single album and film you live for. As opposed to a stranger who, perhaps, urinates on your shoes and then giggles at his or her own genitalia. That's not the kind of stranger I ever want to meet again... !
Like a new born baby I have created this blog, kicking and screaming, and covered in a strange substance one can only refer to as... "love". I'm not entirely sure what to write about at the moment. Perhaps something mediocre and nonsensical, as is the fashion with this stream of consciousness I've suddenly inherited. Well, perhaps not. I know what I'm talking about. It's blogs. My blogs. Blogging. What I do, and what I say. I sign up to everything, you see. I do so compulsively. I sign-up to blogging services because some aspect of their design or execution really screams out at me, and then I get this tremendous fantasy of the ability to make my own blog upon this service a success. It's what seems to drive me; that focus to create a blog that everyone reads. And I've trawled from one blogging platform to another expecting instant popularity, for my opinions to reach every corner of a website and saturate the brain waves of the masses. This doesn't happen and, for some reason, I'm surprised. Of course it doesn't happen, I've only just arrived and I'm expecting everyone to know my name. How stupidly naive can one person be? I could blame society, I could blame accelerated culture, I could blame e-numbers, I could blame violence that lives inside my XBOX 360... But to be truthful I don't know what it is. I'm just another kid deluded by grandeur, and this is now my home. If you give shit, you'll stay for seconds. If you don't, however, I think I'm still going to be here tomorrow. There's a first time for everything...
