Something Innocuous

I'm in one of those moods.

No, not one of those moods. One of those moods.

I'm experiencing a combination of depression, boredom, jitteriness, absent-mindedness, anxiety, tiredness, apathy and intense philosophical self-analysis.

It's not the most winning of combinations. In fact, it wouldn't win against the vast majority of combinations that exist. It would lose to a combination of bad breath, belligerence and casual racism.

So I'll try not to dwell. No one likes a dweller. Dwelling is associated with trolls. And I'm no troll.

I should try to tackle something innocuous. Like inoculation. Or couscous.

But it's difficult to focus on just one thing. My head is buzzing with words and thoughts that are incredibly shallow, but capable of holding a lot of liquid. Thoughts like that one just then, which conform to the minimum requirements of sentences, but don't actually mean anything.

One day, inspiration will strike, and all these pointless ideas will align, becoming beautiful and truthful and divine. I'm sure that will happen. But for now, I'm essentially writing this to keep my fingertips warm.

I should go back to the trolls and the couscous. They're still waiting for the salad bar to be replenished with goat carcasses. So are the trolls.