A Lesson in Author's Intent and Meaning

Well yeah so I started to write that blog post I promised yesterday and I realized it was too emotionally taxing and way too personal for a like personal medium but I'm free to maybe disguisedly and secretively and shelteredly talk about it abstractly and in a way that still involves little emotional effort on my part later perhaps one-to-one or something.

Instead I'm just going to talk about nothing. These entries will probably be way more amusing and coherent and like good once I get back to dorm life and stop sleeping half the day away. Maybe. They'll have more of a raison d'être, as it were.

Oh man, it's so very transparently obvious when I try so blatantly and unsubtly to make a point of not making a point of something that's not even really a scary big thing but I'm so horribly uncomfortable and awkward about and then I get in the mood where I read lots of silly postmodern books that kind of skirt around the truth and kind of make fun of these real things and it's all very juvenile sorry.

Also very self-centered and like not even interesting or like anything yeah okay just an afterthought.