It's a word vomit.
I'm overtired from not sleeping on time, going to work at sporadic hours then bouncing along on the bus to uni, and not eating or drinking anything but cold coffee and Pro Plus and every now and then, the odd soft bite of good ole' Texas Chicken; an all-round cheap and greasy favourite in the heart of Luton town.
I'm starting to feel like an old cog now. Its like I'm rusting, which means I'll eventually lock and seize up and explode through my chipmunk cheeks the over used supplements of caffeine and semi-subscribed pills - what I mean by semi-subscribed is that I may have taken some medicine from my brother-in-law's doctoring cabinet with no idea what they're meant to help with (it's not as rock and roll as it appears, the bloody meds are herbal remedies - he's a homeopathic doctor, heh) but all is well. So I liked to even pretend to believe, but it's not happening.
Reality has bitch-slapped me around too many times to make sure I don't think it's anything else. It hurts everywhere, especially on Mondays...
The Christmas season is upon us. Yip. Pee. ?
I can't stand it, all that merriment makes me glum - how people are so happy to have something that's like a second birthday in a year to them. They have it so much better, and for what? Not committing to the Christian religion but yet, celebrating their holidays. If anything, it's a whoring load of ignorance, but it's the one time of the year where most people look forward to pigging out - getting their cheap watered booze festie on to wind down - then spiral out of their mind - and then a week later, quite sheepishly commit to a New Years resolution to lose weight out of guilt...
Soon, it's not long till it's Easter...
I have a birthday and two Eids, I don't get diddly squit except a layer of grease lining my face and stingy tight pocketed uncles stuffing my samosas down their oesophagus and telling me next year, next year definitely, they'll definitely give me Eidi next year, definitely.
The amount of festering lies that have come from those curry coloured lips...
I have deadlines, so I have no time to bitch and snivel over past times or other people's enjoyment. They are all due next week starting Monday, and I'm having a go on my blog...
I need to prioritise but I keep stumbling over on ruddy Facebook and lose all track of time. Right now I'm meant to be doing some editing of our Documentary Practices 4 minute module. If they ever read this, my legendary pencil pushing do-it-just-do-it attitude they all idolise will dissolve. It's a risk, but I doubt it they ever will, don't think they're literate enough, those brunt-brow huffing chimps...yes, James.
CHIMPS. I'm talking about chimps, I know yes. The digressing, it's horrifyingly annoying to digress, especially at a time like this, feck me...!
Right I'm fecking off now, I cannae be arsed to keep you entertained at this moment in time, not even with a song recommendation - this is me typing beyond a dead body and a bladder full of coffee coloured piss, so off I shoot. PEOW!!
