I’m quite a negative person. You might find that hard to believe, but it’s true. No – don’t throw yourself into the pyre just because this revelation has hit you so hard in the pyre gland. I’ve accepted it. I know it. I live it. I am it.
But it doesn’t stop me getting annoyed at two things: being told I’m negative all the time, and others being blindly, unthinkingly negative.
While I highlight the many things I take issue with on a regular basis, there tends to be thought behind what I say and do. I may dismiss someone’s attempt at doing something as pointless and foolhardy, but I will rarely begrudge them trying.
When I am slating something for being the usual things – rubbish, pointless, mind-numbingly vacuous, whatever else – it isn’t because I am consumed with hatred and want all life on earth to end. It’s because I don’t like what I see, and I want to see better.
The anger doesn’t come from nowhere: it is borne from a burning desire to see the world a fairer, superior one to that what it is today. Even down to tiny little things.
I have no idea where I’m going with this, I’ve just found myself increasingly annoyed with the mindless negativity spewed from all angles and I want to highlight the fact that I consider myself separate from it.
I don’t hate just because it’s there. I hate for a reason. I don’t slate just because it’s something I’m not doing. I slate because I’ve found something to slate it for. I don’t instantly resort to bad-mouthing just because it’s the easiest way to react. I instantly resort to bad-mouthing because you’re an insufferable cunt.
But those who know me know me for my jolly personality and happy-go-lucky lifestyle, so that’s all I need to know. I may be lying.
COULDN’T BE BOTHERED WITH AN IMAGE. IMAGINE MY FACE.
Unfortunatley I was kept away from doing a proper blog today by a most pressing issue. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it’s one of the most defining events of my life so far, and a deeply affecting situation for me to be in right now. It’s been dominating my mind recently, making me lose sleep and obsess over the silliest of things that really wouldn’t – couldn’t – be important to anyone other than me. I am almost ashamed to be suffering like I am, especially after so many of you told me this would happen. You warned me not to get involved – that it would only lead to hurt. And all I can say is I’m sorry, because I didn’t listen. And now I’m paying the price physically and emotionally.
Game Dev Story is really fucking addictive.
It’s here. I knew the days would arrive, as they do every year, but they hadn’t arrived with the force they normally do. As such I let my guard down. I became complacent. When it did strike, it was with the fury of a thousand nerds screwed out of a Q&A appearance by Edward James Olmos*. My body revolted, my face ejected all the fluids it could produce as fast as it could produce them and everything itched. Fuck you, hayfever.
But like I said earlier this year (this time last month, actually), I am trying new treatments. I am taking the fight to the pollen – though unfortunately not how I’d actually want to do it. With napalm. No, I’m adopting the newfound technique, as suggested by the also-suffering Swissgirl, of taking more than one hayfever tablet a day.
I know – it’s fucking mental.
But you know what? So what. If it kills me, it kills me – at least I’ll have died doing what I did all my life: trying to stop my nose from running as much as it always, always does. I considered lopping the schnozz off, but I couldn’t find a good enough knife. Or at least, a good enough knife that I would be allowed to use to de-schozz my face. As such, the only method available right now – as I’ve forgotten to bring my nose laser with me – is to take multiple tablets to ward off this pollenial incursion of epic proportions.
Wish me luck.
*Honestly, no idea why I went for this reference.
Things are starting to get ominous. The air is warmer. I can smell it coming in to ruin my life for a few months. I’ve started sneezing a bit. My nose itches just a tiny amount, but enough to be noticeable. My eyes don’t yet feel anything, but they’re preparing themselves for when they do. But no matter how my body or mind is prepared for it, there’s never any way around it: Hayfever is coming to fuck me up again.
I can write this now as it’s before the diseeeease has taken hold of my frail body. If I tried to put these simple words together in a half-legible fashion a couple of months down the line it just wouldn’t be possible. The streaming nose would make me lose concentration, the streaming eyes wouldn’t let me focus and the streaming… well, just the streaming. And the itching. And the fucking itching. God I hate hayfever.
Now I don’t intend this to come across as one-upmanship, but my hayfever is particularly bad. It’s an allergy to grass pollen, which I’m sure many of you either have or know people who have. The obvious problem there being that summer is an outside time where everyone sits on various different types of grass, and if you say you don’t want to do this you are looked on as some kind of troll-like weirdo who needs to be shunned. Plus there’s the fact that park days are ace. But I’m sure many of you are aware of the irritating effect this has on hayfever sufferers.
Problem is, my body decides to take it a step further and completely dismantle my ability to function as a human being. I have sneezing fits that can last 10 minutes or more. My eyes go bright red and, well – I look a lot like this. It is completely debilitating, even with all the medication, treatments, showers and washed clothes I can think of. But the worst – oh! the worst – comes when someone decides to cut the grass near me. This, quite literally, nearly kills me. My throat tries to close up and my entire head puffs up into this weird ball of steaming red nonsense. It’s definitely when I’m at my sexiest. As well as being something to look forward to for Anna.
I’m looking into new/different treatments this year, as I’m tired of this ridiculous suffering. I mean, for fuck’s sake – it’s hayfever. It shouldn’t get in the way of the whole ‘being alive’ stuff I hear so much about. It’s not like it’s even a real illness (it’s a diseeeeease) or anything to compare to people with real medical worries. But it still completely fucks me up and I really am not looking forward to it coming to ruin a few months of my year. Again.
Plus it’s just bloody embarrassing. For all I laugh at the poor fools allergic to peanuts or cats, at least they’re not allergic to the fucking planet. Ho hum.