This Is Not a Greeting

In the scheme of things, I guess the creation of a blog for myself was inevitable. It all makes sense given my proclivity towards inane ramblings and my fixation on journalism. Perhaps it makes too much sense. Maybe this is just too easy. Should I reconsider doing something so predictable? I can't do that now since I'm already this deep. Get it together, start making sense.

I'm not going to explain who I am or what I am like, that's simply too narcissistic and completely unnecessary--if you're reading this, then you know me and know what I am like. The thinly veiled attempts at self-deprecating humor I'd no doubt make would only serve to paint me as a pathetic waste digging for complements and ego-massages. It would be almost as easy and predictable as this blog's creation.

I've decided to make begin keeping this blog as a means to vent my feelings to the internet and attempt to make a cathartic pseudo-journal. Future entries will chronicle my life and times as so many blogs before me have done in many different ways: job hunting, movie watching, music listening, romantic failure, and anything else I deem worthy of my meager writing talents.

Peppered in with the verbose and completely pompous words I write will be the occasional obscenity since saying the word "fuck" makes me cool. The aforementioned pomposity will be used because I have a low self esteem and constantly need to make myself feel smarter; ergo I use words like "ergo" to that effect. That and I find it amusing to flex my lexicon at any possible time.

At different intervals of the year, the focus of this blog (that word is just so addictive) will shift to sports or music. This will noticeably happen in the Fall when the ice is freshly Zamboni'd and the puck is set to drop.

With that being said, I shall leave you with the first line of Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis, "When Gregor Samsa woke up one morning from unsettling dreams, he found himself changed in his bed into a monstrous vermin."