Beginning of the end.

Firstly, i am extremely intimidated by the vacant blank spread of white that i'm looking at and the idea of this blog being anything less than an indulgence for my own pseudo intellectualism is losing credibility with every letter of this ridiculous "Trebuchet" font.

It is 1:34 in the morning and after finally being successfully coerced into creating a blog i realise i am suffering from a condition common to all bloggers: lack of anything substantial or worthwhile to talk about. WARNING: THIS POINTLESS AND DIRECTIONLESS RANT IS NOT COMING TO A CLOSE ANY TIME SOON TURN BACK NOW.

I had my literature exam today and to be honest i think the stigma around exams is so ridiculously hyped up that it is almost inevitable for the whole experience to be sincerely underwhelming. With every exam that i do, the more i realise that the "culmination of twelve or so years of schooling" is painfully anti climactic. I feel as though "the most important year of my life" (another phrase that really irritates me) is drawing to a really uneventful close. It prompts me to question my own seeming indifference to the whole situation...should i be more worried or stressed? It is then that i realise that the soothing calming drug that is the internet, with its myriad of potential distractions and connections to the outside world that i crave to reconnect with is in the other room, beckoning me to bask in its socially networkish goodness.

On that note i saw the other day, on facebook (yes this does illustrate the sad nature of my life when i blog about facebook) a group called "facebook destroyed my vce" or something along those lines. This got me thinking about those brilliant little groups that really illustrate so many of the tiny aspects of society that we take for granted in our every day lives. Slivers of wisdom such as "drunk conversations with people i've never met", "is that a guy or a girl" and my own personal favourite "You've been going out for three days, you're not fucking in love".
When i grow up (or at least once i hit puberty) i would love to meet these social commentators; these observers of man and shake their hand for the subtle, yet insightful way they deconstruct the very essence of society.

If you've made it this far i pity you and recommend highly that you engage in some sort of realistic social interaction to counterbalance the complete and utter waste of the last 3-4 minutes of your sad, miserable life.

I hope that this was frankly less than amusing.

Until next time,
Good Morning.