I have no idea what the fuck's gone wrong with me lately. I mean, I was fairly wrong to start with, what with the chronic misanthropy, my crippling lifelong terror at being alive and my shocking ability to not only miss, but actively destroy opportunities. But, recently, I've started to feel, well, even more wronger.
Sadly, for me at least, being the inarticulate, talent-free, borderline moron that I am, I can't really put these odd feelings of 'more wrongity' into proper, recognizably English, words. The weirdness I'm experiencing is, at least in part, an actual physical sensation; a sort of tense, ticklish feeling at the front of my brain, the sort of feeling you get when you're sure you've forgotten something important. I've been living with this for months. So either I have forgotten something SUPREMELY important, or, I've got a brain tumour. Maybe I've forgotten that I have a brain tumour.
Aside from that it's all boredom, ennui, tedium and 'mono no aware' (I just put that last one in to look smart. I've been reading me some Murakami lately). I'm not sure if this is some sort of new variant on the vague feelings of sadness I've lived with since the age of, ooh, 4 or if this is an entirely new not quite mental illness I'm now experiencing. To be honest, I don't have the energy to find out.
In other news: I am on the Twitter. I have become one of the sickening, brevity indulging tweeters I previously claimed to despise. Turns out that, like the internet generally, Twitter is both terrible and awesome and that the average of these two things equals 'ok' (maths is hard). So, you know, fuck you old (by which I mean slightly younger) sonofajoiner, you square.
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