Why, Hellu!

Yes Yes.

The usual. I’ve been too busy to update my blog.

No. I’ve been too lazy to do so.

I’ll be honest. My perfectly amazing brain has had multiple blog post ideas in the past two months but my perfectly amazing brain didn’t want to co-ordinate with my perfectly functioning fingers to materialize any of them.

Boom.

This came out of the part of my brain which still stores memories of my Twitter days. Yes. I used to be a Twitterati, okay? VERY active. Toilet active. Yes.

Notice how I use ‘Yes’ a lot? No? I do.

Happy Diwali folks! To no-one. Because I’m so lonely, you know. Yes. My own sister doesn’t read my blog. Not even my imaginary boyfriend. I mean, my IMAGINATION doesn’t let my imaginary boyfriend read my blog. That’s how lonely I am. And it’s not even depressing. It’s just clichéd.

*Deep breath* Focus.

I barely remember which idea my brain wanted to bring to words right now. It’s all noodled up. And down. And around, now.  ‘Noodled’ has red squiggly lines under it. LET ME MAKE UP WORDS MSWORD! I wish I could gouge your eyeballs out with my razor sharp wit.

That’s why I’m skinny. I’m always stressed. I’m writing this article and I have twenty other problems of my life running in my head. No. They’re taking a nice long stroll in my head, enjoying the mindlessness.  I’m too skinny and I deal with all the skinny girl problems. So, hi-five all my imaginary skinny girl readers! *Ouch* Lightly. It hurts.

Was this supposed to be a funny article? You know narcissists are funny. That’s their strength. Am I funny? Do I want to be funny?
Wait, this was supposed to be a deep contemplating-y article. It was supposed to make you think. About great things. It was supposed to make you appreciate my writing skills. Damn, no big words in this article. No epiphanies. No famous people quotes. Zilch. 

Hmm. There’s one deep thought. Who am I? As a writer, I mean. I’m not unwell. I remember who I am.  Am I a serious writer, a poetic writer, erotic writer, humorous writer, definitely lazy writer, pretentious writer, Scarlett Johansson,  political writer, a wasted Martian?  We’ll know soon enough. We. Me and myself. Yes.

Did you notice how I use ‘Yes’ a lot?