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Diary of the Dull
Perhaps there is not one iota of truth in the title.
To most anyone fortunate or unfortunate enough to cross my path, I am anything but dull.
Corrupt, unnerving, tragic, even - but never dull.
However, that does not alter the fact that I am dull - incredibly so - Especially by my own standards. Also, I am possibly conceited. No. Even if its true, one must not dwell on such negativity, at the risk of wallowing in apathy. Its a pathetic thing to do, to wallow. And to wallow in self-pity is the absolute worst.
It is as my grandmother used to say when my mother hit me. "If you waste your time laying around feeling sorry for yourself, you'll never get anything done."
Besides, I must project into the universe the reality I desire. "I am happy, humble, and hopeful."
Lame mantra, if I ever heard one. No! Can't think like that!
However, I cannot deny my dullness. It would be too blatant of a lie to sweep under the rug.
Here I am again, wallowing in self-pity for my dullness and apathy. Oh, God, I'm backsliding!
But no one panic Not that they would.
Lets put the cigarette out and organize THAT DAMN bookshelf...
There! Progress! See everyone, the damage is reversed.
Move along, nothing to see here. Like you needed to tell them, no one's looking.
The truth is that when passerby do more than glance they're missing more than they know, more than they could possibly comprehend with their heads in the sand like that.
Not that its usually not unintelligible as it often is.
In simplified retrospect, it is an addition problem with a seemingly non-existent sum.
Though my thoughts are typically equally or more sophisticated than theirs, AHA! CONCEITED BRAT!!!
Don't beat yourself up, just correct it...
Nothing seems to add up. Maybe no ones thoughts do. Maybe reality doesn't. Too many "maybe's" It doesn't to me, anyway. What if it doesn't exist at all?
What are you saying?
What a shame, or... what a relief? Ooookaay, crazy lady...
This has undoubtedly got to be one of the dullest things you've ever read, am I right? Wrong, you're never right and you know it, all those miscalculations, all those mistakes, could've saved a lot of people a lot of grief, including yourself, moron. But what if I'm wrong about that? What then?
I don't know, this doesn't make sense,
its all so surreal...