First post (yet again)

I’m wearing the same clothes I slept in, which are the same clothes I wore yesterday and it’s the same clothes I’ll wear today. Which is weird because the weekend attire usually involves the same circumstances but with a dress and a pair of high heels instead of an intermediate between pyjamas and sporty clothing.

My diet has the balance between healthy/trash. Today I sip my cup of tea as I eat instant soup in contrast with my glass of Amaretto and my fruit of yesterday. As the set of dishes and my chores accumulate in my room, I just type, type, type…

Ah I now feel like a proper writer, I just need a damn cigarette.

I need to exercise the ability of storytelling. I had thought my life was so interesting and some day I’d become the sort of character you read about and buy the autobiography or the publication of the personal diary. Except for one thing, I read my diary entries an they are the most boring thing in the world! Amazing stuff happens but what a fucked angle. Yes, that has got to be what amazes me from my diary, how can someone manage to take an interesting event and turn it into a tale that is written so wrong in all of the senses in which something can be written so wrong.

So due to certain recent influences in my life I have set myself to the task of writing a little less beastly. Spelling is obligatory, proper grammar is encouraged, English translation indispensable and black humour as a pinch of salt. To be precise I opened a blog. So now I can be part of the cool gang that has a blog. I have Tumblr, Twitter, Skype, Facebook and recently Google +. What is that crap about Google +? I had no inconvenient with Facebook. Now we all move like it happened with myspace?

So what, does virtual life think that I have the time and dedication to give maintenance to all this shit? I access my Tumblr account happy and naïve thinking that my entries so well thought and edited are still there, as a little jewel among these egomaniac’s blogs fooled by the thought of actually having something relevant to say and… where are my posts? Where are they? FUCK. They disappeared without trace! Was I censored? Was my account hacked? Did I delete them myself being drunk, stoned, asleep or all of them? This virtual life is a lie! Not because you may publish every single thought at the reach of all the world does it mean that all the world cares!

Let me brag in TWITTER how kissing hipster’s ass allowed me to be in the list of the hottest party and the importance of what I’m about to have for breakfast. Let me publish in FACEBOOK the pics of such party where anti-photogenic is self-explained, I comment on them while I breakfast leaving the device close to me near the cutlery so I can immediately respond to any novelty.

Quoting Bere

- No one is as handsome as his or her profile picture nor as ugly as his or her id picture.

I get it now… Second attempt of a blog. I love you Josephine, because everything I have to say I love and interests me. I give a friendly greeting to anyone who is interested and wants to love as well. I know you will. Nothing egotistical I promise (first broken promise, welcome).