Bla

You'd think by the age of 17, sorry, 33, getting confused again, I would have mastered the art of communication and indeed, how to write.

NB I don't mean "how to be a successful writer", I mean "how to construct sentences that convey the intended meaning".

Nay.

I never say what I mean to say (did I say cold? I meant green) and when I go to write something that should be simple, nothing comes to mind. Blankety blank (is that still on? do they give away a Blankety Blank debit card and pin?). I'm TRYING to write about one of my favourite ever albums. Difficult? No. Anything there? Also no. I should maybe try writing about something else altogether and commenting in brackets on the album, for that seems to work for me.

Talking to people is hard. Yes, it is. When I aim for "nice", I achieve "poking nose in". For "helpful", I manage "patronising", and for "advising" I produce "unrelated personal life story".

When I grow up, I'm going to be able to write like this (yes, him again, he always manages to depress me by being both grown up and able to immediately activate the "I'm jumping up and down, look at me" module) or this or this. Meantime I'm going to find some teenagers to hang out with so I appear sophisticated and worldly wise. Ugh. No, I'm not, that's a complete lie. I shall continue on my quest to have no teenagers that aren't related to me in my life at all ever. I am not going to shut up till I get some sense/social skills (I'm sure I used to have some?). No, I am going to blunder on as before.

This counts as pointless. Pointless I can do for hours. Dammit.