Grumble

I am angry and jaded that my 'edgy' blog has turned into some sort of self-help forum for myself.

I sort of pictured myself ending each post like Carrie Bradshaw, sat at my desk looking out the window and pondering to the sky, then taking a drag of my cigarette before typing:

Something that ends like this?

(Don't forget you have to read it letter by letter as if it's being typed for you.....)

Truth is I am sat on my sofa littered with empty cups and dishes from my day, wrapped in my throw blanket. And I look like shit. Not the sexy kind of shit, just plain shit.




Aaaaaaand I don't even smoke. The best I could do is seductively chew on a pencil, but that will just end in some sort of unattractive gagging, and it's funny, and you imagine how funny it would be if you were being watched, or if it was on TV, but then you realise you're alone and not being watched and then you feel a bit sad. And then you wonder if you ARE in fact being watched and start to feel a bit creeped out, close a door or two, check the kitchen and maybe flick a few more lights on just for safe measures. Do I do all of that?

No I do not. I did NOT just do that.


And then you read and re-read your post to see if it's any good, and wonder if people will think it's a bit crap, and then correct it grammatically, and then put some italics in here and there for good measure, then wonder if you typed the word measure too much, then realise no-one is going to read this anyways so SEND IT TO THE INTERNETS!

*Click*