thoughts.

To continue in the vain of my theme, incessant hopelesness, I would like to talk a little about the constant rattling of so and so ideas inside my head. All these thoughts, unorganized, untethered, and impossible drop and slide around my skull like people not wearing seatbelts in a diving plane.

Some of them seem plausible, even like good ideas. Others are nothing more than whispers of dreams and irrational wonderings. My in-born filing system is something of a failure. Truth be told I organize my thoughts like some crazy old clutterbug cat woman. They end up on shlelves, in manilla envelopes labeled inconclusively like "good", "bad", and "Christmas". I wish with all my soul I could re-arrange them, contract another person to come inside and spend some quality time and elbow grease helping me get my shit together.

Since, as has already been established in the first entry of this blog, there are literally no readers of this blog I feel safe in writing intensely personal things here. Actually I would write intensely personal things in The Wall Street Journal if they would let me. I have no shame.

However, be that as it may, the truth remains that this sad little blog has absolutely no readers. I don't even PROOFread itt. It just acts as one of the many millions upon millions of blind information dumps that this internet offers us.

Really, I'm a bit ashamed to say, I have nothing intensely personal to say at this time. I am beginning to feel that I am becoming shallow and that all my dreams and aspirations are rooted in my deeply superficial soul. What a bitch that is!

I mean it's not like I want to be an irrational, food guzzling, dick thinking, oaf of a half man. I just am. It's my nature. I'm a neanderthal who is more than half way to a college degree. I feel painfully out of place, because I have no inhibitions socially. I act selfishly at every turn, and on the occasions when I do the right thing by others I bask in my own glory with an ego only an egoist could love.

I'll be twenty two soon, and as far as I know I am normal by most standards. Sure, I'm a little big. I'm 6'3 of lumbering muscle and impossibly uncoordinated hair. Maybe I'm slightly funny. I wish I was more funny. Being funny seems to be my lifes one social aspiration, and I channel all other social needs sexual and otherwise through this. And I will also admit that I am lazy and unorganized, horrible at arithmetic, geography, navigating city grids, and almost every other spatial skill known to man.

But, these outliers aside, I am a normal guy. I like girls. I have a girlfriend who I love. I like food, friends, action movies, songs about men being men, and hard work. I can count on one hand the things I know for sure about women. And I can answer with one syllable the question do I have regrets. Yes.

I regret more and more each day.

Welcome to Hamblog: I am my only reader.

Hello Ham.

Hello.