When I was younger I was a huge fan of Marilyn Manson. HUGE. I think I started listening to him when I was fourteen-ish. I have read Neil Strauss’ ‘the Long Hard Road out of Hell’ so many times it has literally fallen apart. I read every interview, had all the videos on VHS and still have a DVD or two with live footage. I even stayed up all night to listen to a live show which was broadcasted on the radio (you know how that works with radio; they keep saying “soon” and before you know it, it’s 4am on a school night).

However, somewhere between Mechanical Animals and God knows where, something happened and Manson fell off his pedestal. And he fell hard. It might have been the crap live performances, it might have been this thing he does; he seemed to transform into a male version of every girl he dated. Only to tell the media he broke up with them for “trying to change him/his lifestyle”.

Say what?

Ever since ‘Eat me, Drink me’ came out I lost track of him. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon a press release of a venue announcing a club show in the Netherlands. Ten years ago I would’ve been over the moon. But now? I’m not going. Which is weird, I usually grab every opportunity to see a band that I really loved when I was younger. Even if it’s just for old times sake. But Manson. I’m just not interested. I imagine it will be painful to watch.

It all started with a job. The kind of which I consider is solely meant for grown-ups. Then came the One. Then it hit me: I only need a decent house now and then I am all set.

A decision was made.

I am now in search of a new job. Not necessarily in search of a new One. And still in search of a new house. I am no longer going to engage in activities - be it jobs, social events or relationships - I do not believe in for the full hundred percent. Because this is about me: this life I am leading. It occurs as rather strange to me that I had never looked at it this way before. My life has always been about rationalities: things always had to make sense. People always had to make sense. I am still this way, it is who I am. I do not engage in small talk with strangers as I believe it is a waste of time. I do not fully understand the concept of social rituals. But what I have learned from being this person and about the choices I made and make is that at times, it makes me so unhappy.

And I cannot live like this forever. I cannot lead my life coulda, woulda, shoulda-ing. So I am turning my life around. Completely.

I think it is about time I conclude that if I would have been born a boy: I’d be as gay as rainbows.

After, what might be considered careful consideration I finally decided to do what Nikki told me to do yonks ago - get my cute ass a Tumblr account.

Peer pressure is a bitch.

Nikki, who happens to be one of the most wonderful people to have ever walked the face of the earth, is one of my best friends. This only makes sense. I am also one of the most wonderful people to have ever walked the face of the earth. The reason we are friends is the same reason why all my friends are my friends; birds of a feather flock together. The rest of the people I know, are just people I know.

There is only one small problem. I have absolutely no idea what ‘having a Tumblr’ entails. Besides that ‘having a Tumblr’ sounds like having a terrible and potentially fatal disease, I doubt the world is interested in my inane ramblings. I generally think I have better things to do than read random people’s reflections on their lives. And I believe this goes for people that aren’t me, too.

I am most certainly not planning to write essays on here that end in: “Education should be available to everyone despite social status, race or religious beliefs”. I mean really, does a bear shit in the woods? Everyone with more intellectual abilities than say, an amoeba, knows this. I am not here to Heidegger, Wittgenstein or Either/Or you (see what I did there?). Truth is, I am not quite sure what I’m here for. Because really, I’m only here because I had been told to.

I am an amoeba, hear me roar.