The first 'proper' blog post of many I would attempt.

So today I begin my life as devoted blogger, sycophant and tedious bore no doubt. I'm very disappointed in myself. You see I have admired from afar the efforts and achievements of a hundred different bloggers, blogs and what not, like a silent voyeur in the sways of an internet induced slideshow(coma). 

Every other day I believed it to be the time to take up my ergonomic keyboard and battle the apathy that has bogged me down, and everyday I found myself staring at a stream of beautiful but meaningless tumblr posts and thinking 'What do we say to blogging? Not today'(Whilst evidently watching Game of Thrones). But today I said today! Finally I have found my feet(fingers) and started walking(typing) the path of the righteous(screen-obsessed). 

It is a difficult thing to find a niche on which to focus ones efforts of the cogitations, there is no end to picture related blogs, again with the slideshow antics, no end to the alt-LIT scoundrels who experiment in their apple mac cauldrons with a thousand different fonts below a starry sky or situated upon some empty rail-way; "Your love might hurt but my scarred heart will always pull through xoxox </3" - Now I am all for sentimental feels, capturing the emotions of the world whilst backed by a faded snapshot of Brighton pier (or replace with Margaret Thatcher) but that will not stop me wishing an end upon this earnest clawing for nostalgic praise. Anyway you'll be happy in the knowledge that I'll update my manifesto at some point in the near or distant future.

However I am not a nihilist, which might be obvious through my obvious seeking of approval from the cyber-space community; I may decline from defining what I would wish to make the object of my blogging antics for now. Maybe I'll go into crockery, maybe not. Maybe I'll delve into the centre parcs scene-I've heard there's openings-but then again maybe not.

But for now I am satisfied that I've made it to the end of my first ever 'Proper' blog post without mentioning Kim-yong-unlikely. Damn.

Peace out,

Richard