We’re all different.

You, me, every fucker. We all have different emotions and … fuck, why am I doing an intro.

I had a new emotion today. I will call it sorrow-joy*.

I felt a little weird, I left the pub. I bought food, I walked home, I started to cry in the lift, not too bad.

I laughed as I put the key in the lock. I’m laughing as I tap at my keyboard. It’s still with me, this … fuck …

Fuck I’m happy, fuck I’m sad. I’ve been both, but never both. I dropped to the floor once I was inside. I’m lucent enough that my back hurts. Lucid enough that it’s weird. Lucid enough that I’m scared.

I’m pretty scared, to be honest. This isn’t right.

My mouth is open, my eyebrows are up. I’ve never felt further from what I feel I should be. And I’m a nut-case at the best of times.

A tear is on my cheek but I want more. I’m trying to cry. To cry properly. But it’s turning into laughs.

This isn’t right.

* My picnic of love with portmanteaus was shat upon by the pterodactyl ‘Brangelina’. There will be no witty conjoining of words.

I’m starting a social club at my place of work. Introverts only.

Meetings will be held at a fabulously exciting location every month and you are expected to make excuses to not come. You are free to not come with a +1 as long as you don’t discuss it with me before hand. Although you are not required to not show up, it is highly recommended that you don’t.

If for some reason you have a genuine excuse to show up, I will be disappointed but understanding. However if you say to anyone the next day “where were you last night?” you will be expelled from the group.

Each month I will present an introvert of the month award; the winner will be notified by email. No one will be cc’d and I don’t want you to discuss it with me in any way. There will not be a meat tray or gift basket that you need to carry home on the train with everyone looking at you.

At the end of the year I will hold an awards ceremony where everyone that won introvert-of-the-month will be invited to not come up on stage and give a speech about the year that was. This once-a-year event is a great opportunity for you to not get to know your colleagues better and it is mandatory that you do not attend.

If you are eligible to join The Introvert’s Social Club you will not be notified at all. I look forward to not speaking to each and every one of you more than I have to.

I have discovered the key to happiness. And from what I understand, it’s very similar to the key to raising children.

Distraction.

Always have something at hand to distract the unruly child. Maybe a toy, or a snack, or the back of your hand.

Life is pointless. If you think about it, you already know this. Any task that is only about doing the task itself is pointless. That kid from the Karate Kid thought washing the car and painting the fence was pointless, but it turned out that there was a point to his actions. Unless, at the end of this life, we discover that we’ve been preparing for something else, then you gotta admit, it’s all kinda pointless.

Once it really dawned on me that there is no real reason to do this thing we call life, I was surprised that so many people seemed to not feel this way. Happy cunts. And this made me feel sad, sure, but also disconnected. I thought about joining the ranks of the tens of thousands of people who check out each year of their own accord.

Then I started thinking about why it is that all these perfectly intelligent people (the happy cunts) managed to ignore the fact that everything they do, everything they get angry and frustrated at, is all entirely optional, and makes no difference if you do your 80 years or finish up whenever you feel like it.

But I think I understand what I guess everyone else already knew:

Forget about it.

Focus on something else. Shake some keys in front of your face if you need to, watch TV, or just cheer the fuck up. So that’s what I’m working on now. Yes, everything is pointless. Everything I do now I have done before and will do again. And nothing I do now will exist when I’m gone. There is no reason to do any of it.

But … just forget that and do it anyway.

I finished off a deodorant roll/stick thing this morning. I was halfway through the application process. So now my left armpit is slathered in Lynx Chocolate Action Extreme and my right armpit awash with Rexona for Men Original 48hr Rugged Protection.

It doesn’t feel right. I’m worried that something will happen, that they will seep in through my skin and meet in the middle of my chest right near whatever the fuck is in the middle of my chest and cause some chemical reaction that travels to my brain and I’ll start thinking of weird shit about giraffes. My eyes will start shifting from side to side as the two forces battle it out, I will go to a bank to cash a cheque because that is something I need to do today and they will think I’m casing the joint and I will be arrested. In jail everyone will think I’m looking at them sideways and I won’t make any friends and I will be lonely. I will get lots of reading done I guess.

I’ll do the cheque thing another day. But I need to be careful that I don’t veer to one side while walking, just for today. I’ll focus on a point on the horizon and make sure I walk directly towards that. In fact I think it’s best if I stay inside.