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Month: January 2016

Hello world!

Hello world!

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Newest of new beginnings and stuff

I know. I know, okay? Yes, I’m starting a blog on New Year’s Day. Yes, post breakup. Yes, I signed up while more than moderately drunk on Christmas night and for a week couldn’t remember my username, password, or which email address I used to sign up. No, this is not ironic cliche. It’s completely legitimate, heartfelt cliche, where I might at some point discuss at length the following:

  1. Catharsis. (ugh)
  2. Self-discovery. (tremble)
  3. New Dawn. (ew)
  4. New Day. (whuuuuu)
  5. New Life. (*shame tears*)

I truly have no idea why I’m doing this. There is no one here to read it and haven’t blogs been essentially pointless for the last fifteen years or so? Should I be Tweetbotting or Snitterwanking my innermosts? Snapchatting?

No. No photographs. The last thing I want to do is look at, or worry over, one more photograph (ex was photographer.)  Just a blarg. My blarg. Blarg. My phone keeps autocorrecting. BLOG. Oh, fine, blarg.
Words. Only words. Mine. Which I’ve been out of touch with for quite some time. Chances are I will never post here again, but who knows. Onward and upward… as terribly awful people say.

Here’s what it might be, if I ever come back:

  • Exploration and discovery – of my city, my world (and maybe a bit of my mind)
  • Pursuing a passion – yes I know that’s what everyone of my generation says, but apparently that’s what I’m meant to do now instead of taking up a job in a consultancy firm. So, hey, Bliss? You out there? As soon as I find you I’ll follow you, okay?
  • Fun – is that allowed? Can I just do this for fun? Well yes, I can, so yes I will. I can do whatever the hell I want I suppose.
  • A record – of what I have no idea. Nothing happens to me but I feel that needs recording.

Here’s what it isn’t:

  • Him
  • Snakes. (I don’t like snakes.)
  • Raising my fu*^ing self awareness. Believe me, I couldn’t be more aware if I tried.

There you go. That’s what you’re going to get. Whoever you are. You’re no one right? No one is reading this. This is dark web stuff, or dead web stuff. The place where thoughts go to die in a coffin lined with ones and zeros.

Right. Pub.

DBx