Two in one day? I'm like a machine. A bored, cold-ridden machine.

I'm still sick, which isn't surprising, since it's been less than a day since I wrote the first post talking about my life-threatening cold. The prognosis is my own, if you're wondering, and based on no established medical knowledge, but I have a sense for these things. It's not the first time I've had a self-diagnosed potentially fatal illness, so I know a lot about it. Luckily I managed to survive all those other times, allowing me to have a wealth of personal experience on the subject.

Anyways, I did some other things to amuse myself today. I played Zelda for awhile. That was good times, kind of, you know, whatever. Then I sat staring at the wall, before I decided that I had gathered enough energy to venture out into the world to obtain a library card. I haven't had a non-school-issued library card for a good 10 years, at least, after I lost mine so many times I was too embarrassed to get a new one. I hear that a library card is like a key to the world of imagination. I'm hoping that key works both ways, because I think I might want to get out of that world. Actually, I lie, I'm quite happy here, where I'm allowed to keep Oompa-loompas as pets and most houseplants recite poetry expressing their deep yearning for freedom (it's tragic, but entertaining).

Anyways, after checking out a few random books, coming home and getting bored with them, I decided I should probably just post again, because they have become so few and far between that I would shock everyone reading (ie. my parents) if I managed to post two in one day. So, I thought I'd write about the true reason I started posting less, which is that I have a horrible fear of this blog becoming self-indulgent.

After further reflection I realized this is a ridiculous fear. It's already self-indulgent. In fact, it's always been self-indulgent. I just was so self-indulgent that I self-indulgently convinced myself that it wasn't. But, if it actually wasn't self-indulgent, I probably would not have survived past one post if I'd even written that one at all, which I wouldn't have, because I would have been indulging myself in some other way, most likely involving chocolate, because it is most delicious. What I failed to realize in all my fears of becoming self-indulgent is that people only actually label people self-indulgent when they are actually successful. Really, when someone is creatively successful, there are only two potential directions: self-indulgent or sell-out. In the end, it's just that some people don't like certain creations and need to have a label for it that ensures that all others know they are justified in not liking it.

Luckily for me, I am not commercially successful, so, I can pretty much do whatever the hell I want, since my family is not about to label me either way (although I sometimes wonder if I should watch the swearing...). Most of the time people that are not genetically related to me mention this blog, it's usually followed by, "well, I don't read it all the time", which I already know, because I've written pretty much nothing for months and they're speaking like it exists in the present tense. There might have been a time where this bugged me, mainly when I was dreaming of random lazy writings somehow translating into much money and happiness. I hadn't quite figured out how, but thought it was something like Blog ----> _________ ----> have someone drop off big bags of money at my door ----> use said money to buy happiness. But I'm not sure I care now. I like to be able to repeat jokes in a social context and have everyone laugh because they have no idea that I used pretty much the same line in 3 separate blog posts because I'm not really overly original. With none of my friends reading this, I'm pretty much safe to parrot myself at every chance I get, which is good, because I enjoy both parrots and their propensity for crackers.

In conclusion, I am completely self-indulgent, and pretty much cool with that fact. I'm going to continue to alternate between neglecting this blog and writing far too much information about the inner workings of my mind. Some of the time, instead of writing this blog, I will write angry e-mails to major companies and see if I get free stuff, or if instead I will have to boycott them for life. That's just how I roll.

Happy song: Downtown by Petula Clark. I challenge you to listen to section with the key change followed by instrumental solo without feeling happy. However, if I lose the challenge, I don't really care, because I'll just listen to it again and perk right up. It's win-win for me.