Obviously I only post to dish out teeming bacteria cultures of negativity; please know this is but one half of me. I sometimes find it hard to break free from my own tyranncal head - scratch that. It's not tyrannical at all. My thoughts are my religion. I immerse myself in modern existentialism and online psychology journals. I save ideas on the back burner of my brain and come back to them weeks later. They develope a nice smokey flavor like that.
I wrap myself in NPR and spoken lectures. NPR is, in my mind, the adult version of story telling and comfort food for thought. The internet history of my laptop is wrought with earthy self-help articles and free verse poetry blogs. Perhaps the largest justifications of this narcissism is that I predict all of this reflective musing will in some way force out a selfless and more sympathetic attitude.
The point is: you must understand that the thing I like to immerse myself in least is my own self-pity. Blogging is the release, the purge of deprication, the reason to stop sulking and move on. It is the disposal of this infective analytic thought. As the host of a constant abundance of tide-like mood swings, it is fascinating to me to be forlorn, to be miserable. However, sulking is extremely unattractive. And melancholy acoustic remixes get old after a while. Dan Pink said that we need to get past carrot and stick extrinsic motivation, so here it goes.
