Diary of a Troubled Genius

aid

OK this is a real diary entry! Arrgh! You don't have to read this if you don't want: it's about me! Also I wanted to take advantage of my nice new look (cheers, liz is it?).

It is very likely that I will be too afraid to post this. So I will save it and post it later when I have the guts maybe.

Now, the question you've all been waiting to hear. What is wrong with me? Why do I insanely rant on and expect anyone to give a flying monkey?

Perhaps it's because I always feel like I need to be surrounded by people. That is reflected in previous entries, and in the fact that my house is rather like a youth club.

Why do I need to be surrounded by people? Probably because it's the easiest way to feel like I'm giving something, without actually doing any work. I have nothing to offer. Nothing. Sure, I'm a nice guy. I think. What good is that? None, because, whilst I might think to get you a birthday present, I'll probably never get round to getting it. Not out of malicious intent to hurt anybody, rather that I simply didn't get round to it. So I'm unreliable, lazy, and I don't achieve any of my goals, nor act on any of my intentions.

I don't see this leading to a particularly successful future. I'm not especially clever either. I love creative people, because I am not creative. Still, if you can't be good at anything remotely academically demanding, I guess you could write or tell jokes or pretend to be creative. By you, I mean me. So that's exactly what I am. I rely on my personality to get me by. Its been said that I am a nice guy with very little underneath. Not very little brain matter, just very little...oomph. I think that's the right word. The only problem is that there are incredibly talented creative people out there, and I'm just not one of them. So what am I? Nothing...

This couldn't all be down to self-doubt could it?

Whatever. The point is that I never work, because I'm scared to. I'm scared to take leaps forward. I'm scared of a lot of things. Don't be like me. Take your chances, and if I'm brave, I'll post this entry straight away and stop worrying what people think of me. Then I'll delete it probably . . .

written @ 5:30 p.m. on 07 April, 2003