Unhappy. Work is problematic, MC action isn't and won't be at least until next week and probably not even then, i'm tired, there's an unhappy gutweh, my room is untidy and recognised as such, there's an unhappy gutweh, i'm tired, MC action isn't and work is problematic. In situations such as these the main thing is to keep breathing, not to let one's anxieties cause one to skotodinein, to spiral into darkness, not from wonder but from woe. Why are things - comparatively speaking - so difficult? And in this comparatively speaking all is revealed. For cmon da fuck. My room will be fine, my gutweh will cease, work will fall together. I should count my blessings, and let a smile be my umbrella, tho a frown is, it must be admitted, a much better one. But one! That I should fall in das Man, the one! And be like them! That I should be hen, and not aoriston! For I'm not at present thinkable (vide. Ar. Mph bk4 ch4-6). It makes one one-der that I, ebenbild der Gottheit, not arseholicular in any potent sense, bearer of positive qualities should waste away ein-sam, never Zwei, and always thus in Ver-zwei-flung. But my christ I drei! Yet I vier that nothing good will happen; I cinque so low before, into the circle of the self, that to pull os out, and to live with others, shenaniganly ( for http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7009115265903181305sechs is important) and otherwise is impossible..I'm too sept in my ways! But let us tarry slightly, reader, and separate the huit from the tares. Hope, as it has been remarked upon, eternally bleeds and bleeds eternal. And to the extent that life is like a lottery, only shit, it is the case that to be in it one must in it, and i am at least formally in it. I have a location in space, and time, qualified quantities and quantified quantities; i'm wearing clothes and sitting am writing an essay and being hurt my the slings and cuntrows of outrageous fortune. So as I say, formally i'm in it. I can't think of any suitable pun for nine unfortunately, but i'm not going to let this tarassei me: I'll be zehn about it.