Tweets From A Twat

Do you ever sit down and wonder why you exist on the internet?

I have. Just now.

Now, before I start, this isn't a call for help. No need to worry or shit like that. Just things are making me think. Like my grammar failing. Nearly said Just thinks our makeing me thing. Today is my fail day, it seems.

I have a multitude of social network accounts, though I only use two regularly: Twitter and Tumblr. I've given my reasons why I hardly use Facebook before, I think.

Anyway, I keep using them, but to what purpose?

Are they my way to vent to the world? To share my life with others who want to know more about me?

Or is it, in all honesty, an egotistical trip down confidence lane.

I don't know, it just made me think. I mean, I just use my accounts on certain websites, there's no motive behind what I do. Well, unless I promote the shit that I do. And no, I don't take photos of my shit and add it to some fecal-loving website.

The only exception to that is my Twitter account, where I actually add my thoughts to the world. But then I think about it, is it worth it?

That question is regarding both the thought I was about to tweet and the use of Twitter itself.

First, the thought of the tweet. Or any form of update, really.

Out of all the tweets/comments/ect that I was about to publish, about 97% of them are sent to limbo with the key combination of cmd + A and backspace. Why did I italicise them? Fuck knows.

A lot of the time, I write something and instantly delete it, before even posting the fucker. Is it because I believe that the update is not of worth? Is it because I think that it would make me look stupid or something? I don't know, my improbable reader. Maybe it's a combination of everything. Maybe it's an option from a selection that's not visible to the human eye. What the fuck am I saying.

But it does pose the question "what the fuck are you doing with your life?" when you have an app on your computer that feeds Twitter and Facebook onto your desktop all the time you're online. I mean, I have TweetDeck up all the time, mostly. That means that I'll possibly get tweets and status updates the moment they are set live. That's a bit... I don't know... odd.

It's, fuck. I really have no idea what I'm writing. I'm just doing the same sodding thing I always to in this situation - write inane bullshit and having trouble keeping my mind on things. Fuck.

Anyway, I'm not that egotistical in thinking that any update I do on the web is worth it. I don't upload a song onto my SoundCloud and instantly think this is going to get me so much pussy or anything like that. More often than not, I just update it to get opinions. I have no intention for things I do to "be good".

But do social networks just feed on our primal instincts? You know, the need to feel connected with others, the need to feel stable within this planet's ecosystem that is socialism.

Or, in my re-visiting into the world of shittery, am I just over thinking things to the maximum? That is probably the thing. Yeah, most definitely the thing.

But that doesn't really answer my first question. The first question where I pondered if my existence on the web was worth it. Well, in many ways, it answers itself. There's no inherit worth of having Facebook other than being part of the times, being like everyone else. You know, using Facebook or Twitter to keep up to date with everyone else.

But then I think, isn't it just destroying the said primal needs for us to stay connected? By pouring your life in a bucket of media?

Then I think, is this was some people thought when the telephone came around? Or even the written word?

Fuck, I need to get out more.

In other news, I hate this gap between Wednesday and Monday. I just need to do something to kill time between then.

Fuck, I hope that I fill out my time until September. With anything. Ah well, there goes my smile.

- He's. A. FIN. -Ily. GUY. Also, feel free to ask me shit on my Tumblr.

Faking It

I just saw the end of a show on the BBC. It was about GCSE students preparing for, and attending, their prom.

I had one thought all the way through the time I watched...

I'm so glad I didn't go to my prom.

Yes. That's right. I believe that my non-appearance at my year's prom night was an advantage for both me, the other prom night goers, and the economy.

One thing that shocked me in the show was the amount of money some people spend on prom stuff. About five hundred quid? Doesn't that seem... I don't know... way too much for one day? Well, except for weddings and the like, that's an understandable occasion for spending large amounts of money for a day.

Granted, five hundred pounds is not considered a large amount of money these days. People seems to flutter that amount of money every week. But to me, its rather a lot.

Luckily, as a human being with testicles and a penis in my trousers, I wouldn't have needed to spend that amount of money on clothes, make up and travel.

Being me, like I am most of the time, I'd look for the most reasonably priced suit (not tuxedo, not a fan of those if I'm honest with you). Not in an attempt to be extraordinarily in being tight with my money, I just didn't (and don't) see the point in throwing away money for something I'd wear once.

Not only that, it cost something on the lines of thirty quid for a meal and some drinks. That seems a lot. But then again, this is from someone who finds ways on getting Pizza Hut for less.

Another reason why I'm happy with the fact that I didn't go to the prom is, well, the whole social thing. I haven't kept the fact that I don't go out and drink a secret. I don't thrive in situations that demand me to make conversation for conversation's sake. What's the point in that? That's one reason why I stay quiet for the majority of the day. If I have nothing of worth to talk about, I'll be quiet. If I have something to ask someone then I'll talk then, or if someone asks me a question.

A great example of this is of me attending my cousin's parents' vow renewals. The service was rather long (but then again, I'm no Christian, and I found the service rather sexist, but that's just my opinion), but when everyone went to eat food was the point where I became undone.

I ended up doing what I've done in every party I've been to. Sit in one spot, watching the others doing what 'normal' people do. My cousin called me normal, when I told her that I wasn't hungry and I only eat when I'm hungry. She was the first person to call me normal for this thought of mine. Anyceremony, everyone was talking to each other, either about the whole marriage thing or some other subject. Me? I just sat in one place.

I also have a thing about eating in public. Yes, I've done it before, but only on some occasions that I do this. One of these occasions is if I'm hungry. Another of these is if I feel comfortable where I am and who I am with. There are other things, but I can't be arsed to go into them deeply.

I also hate the fact that the word arsed is considered wrong by Firefox. Even arse results with the red squiggly line under the word. Ah well.

The final reason, though there are other reasons that I cannot remember properly at this moment in time, is the attention. Yes, I know I wouldn't have a lot of attention, all I know is that I'd have at least a number of people come up to me and try to get me to drink alcohol or to go up and dance. I say no. They either come back with why not?, what a twat or something like that. So what if I'm a twat for having these thoughts on the subjects in question. I'd rather be a twat and remembering what happened than wasting money by drink all night and then forgetting what you did in the morning in the unwelcoming grasp of a hangover.

Oh, I love the sober life, I really do.

Anyway, I know how much this blog post must make me sound like a right wanker who is tight with his money and needs therapy to rid me of abnormal thoughts. Oh, and a little disclaimer, I'm not trying to offend in my posts. If you do get offended, forget about it. What happens when you do get offended? Nothing. You don't suddenly fall pregnant to a giraffe, neither will you lose your genitalia. It's just a thing that goes away after a certain amount of time.

- Let the bodies hit the floor. Let the bodies hit the floor. Let the bodies hit the floor. Let the bodies hit the.... FIN.

Land Of Confusion

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A Year Has Past Since I Wrote My Note

In the past few weeks, two things have happened that have stapled the reasons why I despise those two aspects of my life.

The first thing is food. For some bizarre reason, I became sick after eating a small amount of the food my mother made me for the evening. It wasn't badly cooked. Neither was I eating too fast. But I was sick. Twice. This has happened numerous occasions before. I have no idea why it happens. I wish I did. But then again, if I knew why that happened, I'd know more facts about my despicable body. Happy joyous times.

Secondly is sleep. Last night, I went to bed at about twenty past midnight. I woke up roughly an hour later. I found myself waking up, feeling all paranoid. Okay, I've had worse nights where I was physically shaking because I thought the writing on my walls were moving (I'll stick some photos up here in a new post if anyone either doesn't believe me or just wants to see the walls of my room). My mother thinks it is a lack of vitamins. How can a lack of vitamins do things like that to someone?

Yes, I know. I can't get away from food or sleep. I need both to live. but, by fuck does it annoy you when something like eating and sleeping turns on you and buggers up with your brain...

This part's just a filler for the next part, consider this the in-post interlude. I aplogise for the lack of ludes. But, for some reason, I've started to get into the music by the Police. I've been playing to this song for a while, as I murder both bass and vocal parts of this song. Such a good song, man...



But alas, I shall carry on.

Y'know that they say that everyone has a novel in them? Well, I think that's what people say. I've heard that saying before. But we're not here to discuss the origins of sayings (oh, and by the by, sorry if this post seems rather... shall we say, meh). Any-mr-potato-head, I don't think I have a novel in me. But I will say this. I do want to try my hand at writing comedy. Yes, that last sentence may well be one of the funniest things I've ever written. Damn, I've peaked too early...

But yeah, I wouldn't say no to writing something that people would consider comedy. It's the only genre that I can probably do. Every time I try to write serious stuff, I always cock it up with something funny. I don't even put it in, thinking it's funny. An example of this was when I had to write a 'letter to Jarvis to give my thoughts and opinions on the new school building' for my English GSCE coursework. I wanted to emphasise how narrow the corridors were. So what did I compare them with? Yes, umbilical cords.

I used umbilical cords in a comparison to the corridors to emphasise the claustrophobic feelings of those long pathways to individual hell-holes others may call classrooms. And I thought this was normal.

My English teacher told me I had to re-write it, as it was 'too funny for a letter'. Okay, I'm not piling everything on something I wrote three years ago, but it has got me thinking...

Are some people automatically attracted to one genre of writing than the others, in the case of writing?

Obviously, the answer is yes.

If you were to write a short story about cheese, and could take it anywhere you'd like, there's a massive chance that there's a hint of your natural genre in that text. Saying that, I have no idea about writing. Yes, I have this blog and I write a few stuff for Wicid (with a handful of them actually getting onto Clic), but they are just some stuff I write. Granted, it has my style of writing, but it's just that, a style of writing. Nothing in this blog (or the posts on Wicid for that matter) that I write isn't meant to bring you down in a barrel of laughs (and neither does it seem to succeed in that case).

I'm not saying about me writing pilots for comedy sketches. Neither am I thinking about doing stand-up (which, if I had the confidence and the material, I would consider, but as I have the natural comedy style and timing of a pig that's been circumcised with a coat-hanger, I think not). I just want to do some writing that people would at least chuckle. Maybe a written version of David Mitchell's Soapbox, where I just write opinions in a hope that someone will not just find humorous, but like it enough to come back an read newer posts again and again.

I'm not saying that's what David Mitchell's Saopbox is like. I actually like the vlog-type things he does. Like this one.



Well, that's me done for this time.

- One, two, three, four. I declare a FIN war.