Guys, I have a fucking dog. Do you know how restricted I am as a person because of a dog? Like,
I am fucking miserable. Not just tonight but generally. Was I miserable ten years ago? Probably. Was I trying to do hot yoga via radiator heat in my first apartment and then blogging about it? Yes. But being miserable is okay when you still have the whimsy and naivety of youth that allows for such misadventure. Now I'm wise and miserable. And it licks taint.
Maybe I'm just a miserable person. And were I just a miserable person writing about their life and throwing it into the void of internet communications circa 2006 then that would be unremarkable, as we were all doing this shit in 2006. But maybe it isn't just that. Maybe this is an attempt to reclaim the fervour I had then, part of a journey to analyse what interested me enough in observing people on the bus or fabricating love affairs between me and the guy who watered the plans at work. And illustrate it all in Microsoft Paint. At least if you're miserable and passionate then shit can get accomplished. Or maybe I'll just write this one post and that will be it.
So I don't know. Don't hold me to anything. But I know it can't stay like this.