is there ever a 'good time'?

It will come as no surprise to the 2.3 readers of this blog that I am a melancholy excuse for a functional human being.

More and more often lately I find myself sitting here desperately wanting to write something interesting and non-myopic; but apparently that's beyond me.

Apparently I'm self-obsessed.

That's pretty shit because, if you believe everyone who's telling me anything at the moment, I'm not very interesting.

I believe them because I know for a fact that wallowing in self-pity is pretty fucking pedestrian.

I hate being this way.