I have scared those around me with the flavour of my recent posts. Upon re-reading them I can see their point. I sound like a man who sees no purpose in life. This is far from the truth of my actual feelings. I love my life. I feel slightly guilty in having such fun in my days.
Even with all the ease of my days I still manage to find something to feel negative about. This can be bloody difficult sometimes but I persist until I do. And this is a great thing. I won't bend to the onslaught of happiness. I will resist. After all, how else can I be happy when I am only happy bitching about things? I love to get down and dirty with a real good gripe. My day is not complete if I can't let out some kind of smart-arse comment on life or the universe or something. Having nothing to complain about would mean that I am dead.
All this giving thanks for small mercies thing- forget it- find something to pick on. It is an art form. Any fool can be happy.
And I don't want to be seen as a fool. True genius is only displayed by a miserable attitude. All those difficult personalities we so admire in the media- they put smart arsed misery on show and because of this they are held as artistic types- geniuses. Now that's how I see myself. So expect more misery people- misery is good.