Oh hi there, glad you could drop by. I love what you’ve done with your hair! You’re looking great. Are you losing weight? Hitting the gym? Slowly dying inside?
So. I had a plan, I really did, to write a blog called “Relentless Positivity”. I was going to concentrate my energies on only the good things in life. We are surrounded by twenty-four news media that report on war, famine, pestilence and death, so I planned to balance that up with a ray of digital sunshine. I was going to point my readers to inspiring art, acts of goodness and cute animal pictures. I wanted a gigafuckton of cute animals.
It didn’t take me long to realize that I just wasn’t cut out for that. I find myself questioning the point of art, the motives behind goodness and the mindless balls of instinct that are cute animals. (Aww, look at his fluffy ickle face! Look at the way I like him because he hasn’t got the ability to judge me or contradict me! Imagine how readily he would eat me if he were big and I were injured!)
I have an unfortunate tendency to bring my own personal darkness to everything I come into contact with. I’m like a teddy bear made of poo. I sometimes look cute, from a distance. I might actually want warm hugs. If I try to hug something, however, I end up covering it in my own hideous taint.
Will anyone want to read these rants and wailings? I hope not. I hope people have better things to do than eavesdrop on the workings of an unpleasant mind. I see myself as a mad man shouting into a cave and enjoying the echo.
If you decide to read more of my gibberish, brace yourself for a rollercoaster of cynicism, despair and poorly conceived philosophy. It’s about time the voice of a middle-aged, middle-class white man was heard, don’t you think? Surely there’s nothing more fascinating than the pompous pronouncements of a damaged narcissist? Who wouldn’t want to see the world through lenses of nihilistic horror?
I will be blogging about: world events; the arts; culture; philosophy; politics; religion; handy household hints. I’m also hoping to review products so that companies send me free shit. I love crisps. Crisp companies should send me their products, I’ll write whatever they want, I’m not proud, I just want those salty treats. Pork scratchings too, they’re great. They’re so unhealthy that they’re like a socially acceptable form of slow suicide. They could use that as a tag line on their products. I’m born for this blogging. Give me a year and I’ll be like Zoella, but hairy and full of self-loathing.
How many words is this? Fuck I’m bored. It’s only meant to be an intro. Stop judging me. It’s my first go, ok? Take that look off your face. Go on, fuck off. Go and read someone who gives a shit.
All my love,