It's 2010 and I've never wanted a previous year to return like I do right now. This year has already been plagued with injustices and general day-to-day bullshit and it's when personal misfortune begins to pile up that one begins to analyse better times and inner cynicism as well as self-depreciation occurs. I feel little need in detailing what has made me become so self-consumed and pitiful, I just vowed as some pseudo- resolution for the (somewhat overrated) New Year's zeitgeist that I'd get online and write this more, and just write more generally. For someone who used to be so self-driven I'm floating amongst a sea of half-fledged ideas and unfinished projects.
I'm finally getting down with some reading and have just started the Transmetropolitan series by Warren Ellis under Vertigo. It's dark, utterly crude and disastrously fitting for my current state of mind. Regardless of my distaste for the way this year has started I pledge to stay on top of my work at University so I can continue reading and writing and being narcissistic. I'm so scared of losing my intellectualism to my own disappointment at the way things always turn out. I'm increasingly likening myself to the hare who lost the race, not because she thought she was better than the tortoise, but burnt out before she was old enough to understand what she should have done with her agility.
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