Testing...

Right, so talking to the seething opacity of the internet is a lot more difficult than writing shit down on paper, the way nature intended.

There shouldn't be any fooling around on this blog, I've decided. Consider it where the final drippings of my thoughts go when they're done using my body (bastards). It is late, after all.

There are six things I need to do this year. Every year I make a list like this, in the hope that this time, dawn of dawns, will be the time that I actualise and potentialise and realise it all and improve myself. This has been going on since I was sentient, I'm pretty sure. No, probably a bit after that. Sigh, then it ends up sliding back to the same status quo, and next year's list grows. Obviously that won't happen this year, with the following things:

-Getting a driver's licence
-PROPERLY learning the goddamn harmonica
-Picking up enough guitar to get by
-Doing a fight or two
-Taking salsa classes with Eleanor
-Taking Arabic lessons at SOAS
-Wresting a goddamn Student Oyster Card from the money-grubbing sots at TFL.

That last one I added as a bonus. Still, this list is a pretty hefty one, by any standards, especially considering my earlier resolution to get a distinction in my Msc at SOAS. Maybe this blog should chart the slow loss of will for each of the goals, and end with a fantastically dramatic picture of my broken body surrounded by splintered musical instruments, salsa shoes, and a wallet full of expired cards.

Hey, but it can't all be that bad. If I actually focus and stop playing marathon gigs on Guitar Hero then I bet I can get most of this done. I even have an academic planner.

Ok, I'm going to keep an eye on myself with this blog, and imagine the peering of a thousand disembodied tappers from places like Wyoming or Manila, willing me to fail so they can validate their smug, popcorn-eating lifestyles. Fuck you.