OpEd:

One of those days where you accidentally made a minor mistake, but instead of moving on you attempt to tear yourself down and reconstruct yourself into not being able to do that again.

That being said, I could use a change. I've lost a lot of the anger I've had in the past, I've become pastoral, and that's worrying me. I don't necessarily want to revert to my pre-grad days of seeing past-September black, but hatred has been good to me. Hating people netted me many friends.

I want to say something akin to: "I just bought a cast-iron pan and a butterfly apron. I just made something chi-chi for a dinner party. One day I'll shell three hundred quid on a food processor, and on that day you can suck my dick." But it's not coming out right, it's not coming genuine at all. Where were the days when I could spit out childish obscenities just 'cause? Oh the days of salad, those days of coloured roses.

Come back, Discordia. I didn't mean it, I'm sorry! We can listen to some HEALTH and Mogwai! Maybe we can make out? I'll cook you dinner!

In the words of Kid 606: "Fuck Up Everything You Can Before You Plan On Slowing Down." And, musically, that's pretty much what he did.

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