Catharsis

The answer's all in the title for this one.  This week's question, therefore is "Why do I do this?"

"This", of course is my blog.  True to type I do a lot of ranting, mostly about the way my love life is as dead as the hope that it might improve.  Man am I tired.  Everybody hides and everybody goes away.  See III-V for more on that story.  I haven't done toooooo much about the poor end of the stall, but choir is often the least of my concerns, paling in comparison to my financial situation for starters.  There was the odd comment about the junior handshake brigade, but I think that's all I can be bothered to say on that.  THEIR LOSS.

Generally, things are ok.  There, I said it.  My life isn't that bad.  I have a bit of spare change to my name, I eat whenever I want to, and I have a stable back line of bestest buddies behind me for when I inevitably fall.  In keeping me going on this mortal plane, The Doctor, The Drum, The Bishop, Slam Dunk and The Royalty have a lot to answer for.

I mean, this is a 'serious' (ok, semi-serious at best) entry into this ponderous log.  I've had enough vignette-ing for now, Lord knows you're probably all tired of reading about my private life anyway.  It's always been easier to write about these things than talk about them.  Not only am I male, but also an Autistic male; I have no hope of being able to participate in open discussion of what I really feel, hence my usual response of "whatever I think doesn't matter".  It never does to rock the boat anyway, and seeing as I'm usually the dissenter of the company, it's more trouble than it's worth.  

On the other hand, I type out this drivel because of two other factors: choice and ability.  Being a native speaker of the English Language with the power of literacy literally at my fingertips, I can write out what I like.  And my handwriting's abysmal, so Times New Roman is a good friend in a pinch at the best of times.  And hell, this is the Internet after all!  If you update your Facebook status or are a regular Twitter user, or heaven forbid BOTH then you're microblogging anyway.  As we can see I do all 3 but then again I don't have a Tumblr or a Flickr or some such.  I might have a PhotoBucket account, but I've forgotten the password and blah blah blah.  

So there we go.  Artificial Spleen vent when things don't go my way and a method of self-comforting when there's no more booze.  Nobody else is going to make me feel any better now, are they? (HURR HURR EMO)  Oh well, as long as you're entertained.

Anyway, enough already.  I just heard my brother enter the building (yes, my actual brother), and I'm going out later.  Life always finds a way.  There's always another way.  

Oh...And anyone who has reading III-V...I laughed it off.  HUSTLE.