confession of sorts

Posted: January 21, 2011 in otiose
Tags: , , , , , ,

I don’t think things through. I think a great deal, but I don’t think about anything in a productive way. I don’t think about how to make good money or properly display an intellectual air.

I think about how to fuck myself over; how to completely fuck myself…then I go ahead and make a few motions that bring this fuck up about. Let’s call this a tendency to fuck about. It’s slightly different than fucking off or fucking up.

I fuck about.

I fret and fidget and fuck about. I apologize for not tweeting it out in constant motion. I guess I don’t fuck about in any sort of trendy or traditional ways. I kind of just…fuck about. It’s bad enough that I have a blog.

I’ve been contemplating deleting it again, but I suspect I’ll just come back half a year from now and start again.

I’d like to stay…if it’s all the same to you. I’d like to stay in my room. See, I have the day off, and I’ve been spending most of the “free time” trying to convince myself to use it.

Clearly, by this post, I’m failing. I must enjoy sharing my failures…but I don’t want to think about it.


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