The Return of The King

I was sitting in my bed, a bed that lacked any sheets, cleanliness or dignity, and I decided to read the blog that I created several years ago, a time when my mind seemed to be rife with creativity. Two things came to my attention on reading back through it.

Firstly, I just don't know who I thought I was. I'm not saying this as some sort of metaphysical puzzle, but rather who on earth did I think I was to make the claims I was making? Beats me. Despite a year of abusing my brain with alcohol and despite undertaking first year Philosophy, exercises which are equally as detrimental to your cognitive well being, I can at least remember far enough back to recall the intentions of this self-absorbed webpage. It began as a place to vent my frustrations and perhaps even suggest answers to them but ultimately both aims were to transcend a playfulness, whimsy and all round jokeyness. It was designed to make people smile. In hindsight I may not even have got a smirk, or any emotion close to contentment. I can only assume that I am considered to be a very troubled little child to those that read my posts, one that couldn't spell and had a very basic grasp on grammar.

Now this brings me on to my second of the two observations, namely that no one actually does read this blog. I could have spent the last three years systematically posting pictures of me raping livestock or strangling a swan with my own optic nerve and yet less than one thousand people would know about these heinous crimes, and less than seven of them would actually care enough to do anything about it.

The first of these realisations (that I had a muddled writing style, consistent grammatical shortcomings and tended to make ridiculous, offensive and obtuse claims) I thought about rectifying. I thought that after a years break that I might be able to write something decent, something respectable and worth shouting about. A year hence and given the second of my realisations, I've decided that this would be fruitless. Why waste time trying to achieve anything of that level when no one even fucking reads this? Why put myself through the bother of writing insightful posts when I might as well write narcissistic, crude, nonsensical, out-spoken, unsupported, groundless and futile gibberish?

I'm back and I wish to offend people, I won't stop until I cause upset, even to you. Especially to you.

I'm off to get some goats, a swan and to tear out my optic nerve, I suggest you do the same before my next post.