And I keep thinking last year has only just gone…

Thinking it Over

Thinking It Over

Well I never… Time has passed me by unknowingly once again. I swore to myself last time that I would make at least two blog posts a month. Being devoid of an interesting source of inspiration everyday, and without the will-power to actually write everyday, when my degree revolves around that very thing, seemed rather a tall order. I don’t know how some bloggers do it and still have time to find the inspiration, and keep it interesting!

But, the inevitable and merciless nature of time has meant it has been three months since my last post. As a result I don’t really think I can call myself much of a blogger, more of an ‘occasional-when-there’s-nothing-else-to-do-at-all’ sort. I really should move it up on my list of priorities  though, because I find it helpful in letting the little rants I have to myself out to the world.

For example this year I’ve thought about patriotism, philanthropy and misanthropy, self-worth and other rubbish like morals of terrorism and hypocrisy within policies against terrorism. These things matter to me, though I doubt to many of you they do quite so much that my brain sometimes can’t comprehend all the loose ends of arguments I have with myself in my head. It is truly a mind-boggling thing, this thing we call life. If I had actually materialised these thoughts into a tangible piece of writing, it probably would have made an – albeit very poor – attempt at a full-length dissertation.

Well anyway, this was intended to be just a quick post to let you faithful readers know I haven’t given up, or crawled away into a shrivelled ball and died, or anything else for that matter,

I’m just one lazy sh*t.

The main reason I write today is because even though I’m  not a massive fan of writing essays for my course, obviously (who is), I have just submitted them all for this term (best feeling in the world) and am somehow not satisfied by the 12,000 words of writing I’ve done this term anyway… I maybe have more of a writer in me than I think!

I can’t honestly believe it’s nearly the end of 2012 either… what… where… why?! I know I’m not the only one to still consider my year of birth (1991) to be only ten years ago… I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

I’m not making any promises, I have a couple of ranty-type posts in the works which I need to finish, but if the world ends on the 21st I wont have anything to write anyway. So it goes.

Here’s to more will-power  in 2013 – that’s something we all need before those futile resolutions!

Edited 28/01/2013

Same difference

Time-warpThat’s it. All done and dusted for another year. Well, almost.

I say this because I have just achieved the word limit on my essay, meaning, no matter how much of an irrelevant, pointless, unreadable, off-on-a-tangent laborious example of turd-quality drivel it is, it’s done. Yes. I am pleased with that. Chuffed, in fact. As I have stated before essays are the bane of my life at present. But how I ever thought I wouldn’t need to write at least one whilst at University studying for an English Literature degree I have no idea.  Probably because I’m a tad nuts.

All that’s left to do is polish it off and upload it, but using my previous description, you can’t polish a turd, so yes, I am done with University work this year. And according to the chronological order into which various periods of ‘parts’ of my life fall, this means I’m basically done with this year too. And what a year: I finished my first year at Uni’, and started my second; had some utter cretin write off my first car; nearly killed my cretin self and at the same time crashed my first car myself, bought my second car (which is exactly the same as the first one); landed myself a far better job than the completely cack one I had for three years from which I earnt almost £13.76 in total; started renting a house for the first time; learnt that those intriguing machines stuffed into walls of banks don’t actually give out an endless stream of free crumpled paper, and that month old sweet and sour sauce smells exactly like dark chocolate, but God it does not also taste like it. At all.

An eventful year then, I hear you state. Yes, I reply, yes indeed.

I also turned twenty years of age, which I guess is also vaguely important. Sometimes I remember that I’m no longer a teenager and when I randomly remember I think “oh yeah, I’m twenty.”  It may be a knackered-as-Grandad old cliché but you do really never know what’s around the corner, literally sometimes. If I was to be serious, though, one thing I have definitely been educated on this year, relevant above most other things (except that farting in the bath after a curry is basically suicidal) is that thing we call life really is what we make it, and the gap between life and death really is as thin as is short the story of Ann Widdecombe’s sex life.

Drunk Santa

Me. On January the 1st 2012, 2pm. Beautiful.

Well, all that aside, I am looking forward to acquiring a few stone over Christmas, loosing a few thousand brain-cells through getting “merry” and a few hundred-thousand more through the effects of being utterly gazeboed. In addition, although I’ve been enlightened by an almanacs’ worth of stuff this year, making me a wise old white-haired wizard compared to me a year ago, I intend to leave this year exactly the same way I entered it: very very out of my mind and very off my face.