So I just watched the movie Closer. It was recommended to me by J. Garrett Morris, former Minister of the Left. I now hate life even more than I used to. And I am cynical again. It happens.
I am in such a state of flux. Everything is changing, and I have no idea what is going on. There are things I need that I will never have. I am not hardwired for contentment. I can only enjoy certain quiet moments, and then only when I am not thinking about it. And so it goes.
At least I don't want to kill myself. That taken into account, I find that I quite enjoy my life. I most certainly enjoy myself. And I seem to have many pleasant and attractive co-workers (some of them are even girls) so it would seem that I quite enjoy my job. Things could be worse. But I don't know that they will get any better. Go on.
During the week, while I have not been keeping you faithful readers entertained with my witty insights into the Comedy of Man, I have been engaged in some deep study. I have pored over many a vellum tome and have come to certain conclusions:
1. It was a Waste of Time.
2. It is what It Is.
3. It is what It Isn't.
4. It never Was.
6. There is no #5.
My words are meaningless. This is a book of lies.
"He doesn't have a name so Death can't find him."
- Enola, Waterworld (the single greatest movie of all time bar none)