BABBLE

I feel like I have this urge to write something profound although I have no idea what that is. Weeks ago I had this metaphoric article on chili peppers in mind, which I just suddenly lost interest to write about. Earlier today I had this peculiar thought of how irritating and funny it is having my mother know nothing about my (nonexistent) love life but I wouldn't want to write about that either. I also have my thoughts on how stupid, shameful, degrading, embarrassing, disgraceful, disreputable and ribald the MMFF is but I'm not in the mood to take on that (because it's pointless). I'm just losing it right now. Funny thing is that what I want to do, believe it or not, is to read; which is highly unusual if you know me. Perhaps this is the curse of the "what-you-were-doing-whilst-the-clock-strikes-twelve-during-new-year's-eve-shall-determine-what-you-will-do-and-what -will-happen-to-you-during-the-entire-year" myth. Maybe. Maybe not.