Hello all, happy Monday. This blog post was inspired by my indecisiveness as to whether to read a book or watch some episodes of Park & Recreation when I returned from my run last night. As is often the case, TV won the ongoing war once again. What was originally going to be a couple of tweets became a confessional in the form of a blog post. Enjoy.
The reason I am writing this letter to you is because I believe I owe you an apology for all the sins I continue to commit against you as I repeatedly choose to indulge in TV shows which destroy your intellectual capacity instead of, perhaps, reading a book, something that will not not only enrich you but surely increase your chances of meeting your true potential.
You see, Brain, it's not my fault that I take greater pleasure in watching television as opposed to reading. Surely what's good for me should be what I find more appealing, right? Wrong. But I must ask of you, Brain, why would I crave what's worse for me as opposed to what will better me, us? I think you have some explaining to do Brain because I, for one, would do things quite differently if I was running this show.
If you would so politely allow me to digress, I think it's worth looking at how when I am on the train with a book in my bag, how quick I am to be disloyal to that book at the sight of a Metro newspaper. And betray that Metro for a shortlist magazine. Or, the Judas Iscariot of all betrayals to the brain, opt to spend my journey reading pointless tweets.
But Brain, for all the loyalty you expect me to show you, all the hardwork you expect of me in order to allow you to shine and steal the party, what exactly have you done for me recently? I mean lets discuss my final A-Level exams three years ago where I worked my socks off for months storing you with information that would result in us obtaining those straight As and you taking all the credit. Working harder than we'd ever worked before. How did you repay me, Brain? Don't pretend you can't remember, I know you better than that, you still remember pointless shit like how I rode a primary-coloured tricycle outside the Eardly Point flats on my third birthday. But let me not digress further, the way you repaid me was with the worst exam results I have ever received in my life. How does that work Brain, revise harder than ever, perform worse than ever? Cruel joke for all the hours spent on Football Manager, perhaps? I still don't find the joke funny.
On that note, I would like to take back my apology, I am not sorry at all. You're self-centred and your way of throwing a strop when you don't get your way is by failing me in the form of memory. So you don't deserve an apology at all. In fact, if you really were offended by my deeply sarcastic attack at your power, you would do something to show me up, prove who's really in control. Something dastardly like pull the plug on this before I get to fi
Currently listening to: Sade - Smooth Operator