I really appal myself. I do. But I get all my energy from appalling itself. I amaze myself by how appalling I am.
Self-loathing is so productive.
My stupidity is so mesmerising. It amazes me so. It really does.
My prose is so terrible. Someone told me that you should learn Latin if you want to improve your prose style. Makes it all clipped and orderly, apparently … If I spent half the time learn Latin as I do writing about how much I hate my work, I might actually get somewhere, though I probably wouldn’t.
I might publish it under the title, Why I am So Stupid. You know, an inversion of Nietzsche’s chapter titles in Ecce Homo. That might redeem it.
They’ll just think you’re a tosser – some with a Russell University job writing about what an idiot he is. Pure self indulgence.
I think you’re getting lost in your idiocy.
I think I am.
If only we could be put on trial for crimes against scholarship.
I don’t think it’s very healthy to be appalled at yourself. Unless you’re genuinely appalling, and I think I might be.
Work in Progress 