I sat down this morning with all intention of writing something pithy and thought provoking about the tragic comedy that has become our politics, but now I’m thinking, what for? We all know how nonsense these politicians have become, and this is going to continue till next year’s elections. Why not have that discussion around December when I’m on holiday and therefore relaxed (read drunk) enough to talk about these idiots without punching the keys on my keyboard like I’m trying to beat the life out of them (as I am currently doing)?
That decision now made, I have nothing to talk about today.
I’m looking back at the last few posts and it occurs to me that I’ve been a bit serious lately, no? Maybe serious isn’t the right word, more melancholic, bittersweet. The one drawback to doing a post each week is that the blog starts to resemble a journal, tracking the ups and downs of my not very dramatic life, which I guess isn’t a bad thing, makes it more realistic, honest almost. But it also shows more than I intend to. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with a bunch of strangers peeking into my head, she says, as she peels back her scalp to expose the sign on her skull saying, ‘Ingia hapa’. Ah well… Bora you don’t try to blackmail me, right? The thing about blogging is it’s a conscious decision, we (and I use this term loosely) write because we want to, or need to. We have something to say, some wrong we want to make right, some omission we need to correct, a side of ourselves we are desperate to show someone, anyone. Sometimes I think all we’re doing is looking for kindred spirits, someone who gets what you’re about, or at least pretends to. On the one hand, we bare our souls and expose ourselves simultaneously to praise and criticism, but on the other hand we bare selectively, kind of like a peep show, I’ll show you the good bits and maybe some of the not so bad bits, maybe.
Now in as much as I try to be honest with you at all times, I will occasionally spin a story a little to paint myself in a slightly more flattering light. I definitely won’t come out here and tell you about my deep dark secrets, that would just be foolish, no? But if by telling a story a certain way, I start to look like some excellent all knowing creature of perfection (not likely, but you never know, no?), then I’m clearly approaching Alistair Campbell
- I’m impatient, unless I’m waiting for a good thing, then I’m ridiculously impatient.
- I have flat feet, at least that’s what my mother always says, but I suspect that’s just her way of trying to make me feel better about my abnormally shaped feet. I guess I should have said I have abnormally shaped feet…
- I suspect I swear more than I should, but who the fuck cares right?
- I have two warts, thankfully not on my face.
- I hate being told what to do, even though most days I need a bit of help, or direction.
- I have 10 hairs and counting on four spots on my chin. Don’t freak out, I pluck the bastards, it’s not like I have a goatee or anything, although the way things are going, I might have soon, who knows? Slight detour, when they said drinking that moonshine shit woud put hairs on my chest, this was not what I expected...
- I have a very short fuse, I’ve done some damage speaking in anger so these days I try to bite my tongue and walk away. Fail most times, but still I try.
- I may have, occasionally, in the (not so) distant past, partaken of some pornography. Just a little. Hang on, that’s a good thing no?
- I can be unforgiving, and I hold on to shit far longer than I should. Doesn’t help that I seldom forget…
- I love politicians...
- I have no qualms telling a lie or two.
My name is (not) Alex and I have very many issues.
Thank you all for keeping me company over the last six months, taking time out of your busy lives to laugh at mine. Special thanks to the two lovely strangers in California(?) and Germany who’ve been coming back here since November, I don’t know how you found me, at this point I don’t care, I’m just glad you did. If I knew who you are, I would mail you cards and shit. No money though, I’m quite cheap. Plus I suspect the other, more vocal, regulars would revolt.
Have a good week folks, I’m off to (not) read the paper.
