Washing Machines and Purple Towels

Three revelations that should have become apparent much sooner than three weeks ago. The first is that blogging is highly over-rated and slightly on the pretentious side. A second, most of my student loan with be spent on MILK. My third and final revelation is that Marx was a pretty tip-top guy.

Paying to live is expensive. Living is no doorway unto happiness. Happiness does not emerge from our commodity fuelled lives. Being a student and reading Marx has already changed my previously solid perspective of politics. I'm no socialist; they have their flaws. No society can strive on a system that centres itself upon one matter of life: Economics.

(Capitalism is after all the hot topic).

I want plenty. I need only but the essentials I am currently living off.

Clearly the words of someone without financial security, i.e. a job.

I must learn to be critical of myself. Academically of course. Made me wonder whether this was applicable on actions too, so firstly... I have many, many regrets, but the rag-doll was not one of them. The title 'Pessimistic Bottle' is as true now as it was then, however the pessimism has relieved itself of negativity. I've found a way to separate opinion from fact and pessimism leans upon a formal factual manner, whereas negativity in itself, to me seems to sound more like opinion.

So lets begin this analysis:

My writing is empty. This room is cold. The honeymoon is over. In the end we all die, but as long as I can watch Gimli, I reckon I might just be okay with that pessimistic future. The fact of death is negative because of the way it will impact your loved ones. Recurring nightmares can set a level of unease upon even the strongest of minds.

You wonder who will cry at your funeral. Did you ever question who would cry but away from your funeral? Its the people in your life that don't attend whom are surely of more interest, are they not?