Normal life doesn’t have my stamp of approval.
So I’ve been back from Paris. And it’s like I’ve entered hell. Every aspect of my life has decided to blow up into a shit storm. Diarrhea style. And normally I just call everything a bunch of fucking bullshit, but I was too tired to do even that. Excuse the amount of curse words in this paragraph, you can tell I’m somewhat frustrated.
Also, I’ve been sick on top of being exhausted these past couple of weeks, and I tell you that’s a potent cocktail. I haven’t been doing anything artsy, or hipster, or interesting for that matter, and it kind of sucks. I hope better days are ahead cuz I could use some. I don’t really have anything to tell you, except that I’m alive. Somewhat.
Trump ruined twitter, did I tell you that before? That used to be one of the highlights of my life, and it’s not anymore. Twitter was the only relatively news-free social network, and now everyone is a goddamn political specialist. I probably shouldn’t even say that because Instagram is even more news-free social network, and thanks heaven that one stayed almost unfazed. Because politics or no politics, people still need to post pictures of their lunches, and babies. And that’s a good thing. Probably.
**so I wrote this a few days before, but it never became an actual post**
But now I want to finish it, and finish it well. My awesome significant other took me to an awesome event and it was awesome. And yes I do plan on saying awesome until you vomit. Because, wait for it, we went to a poetry reading. Not just poetry reading, but a children’s poetry reading. Feel free to roll your eyes, but it was surprisingly good. Because it is quite refreshing to hear funny, nonsense, light-hearted stuff after all the fucking bullshit. Even more so surprising was the atmosphere present. The poets got into the groove, the audience got into the groove, and it was almost magical. They were reading, we were listening, we were enjoying, they were enjoying that we were enjoying, we were enjoying that they were enjoying, and at one point we all got lost. But in a good way.
I got to meet the poet, and I even had the book personally signed. You should most definitely check his book out, and maybe even buy it. And maybe read it when everything around you feels like a bunch of fucking bullshit. The Pirate Who Does Not Know the Value of Pie.