Mis-shapes, mistakes, misfits.

Here concludes a chapter of my life. A time of Natalie Portman, avoiding things and being friends with Michael Jones. I have decided none of these pursuits are remotely fulfilling, satisfying or rewarding. Harsh but true. Natalie Portman is a distant, glamourised Hollywood star. Michael Jones frustrates and depresses me. As for avoiding things, it limits progress, induces unecessary anxiety and depression and ruins your life.

My brother just forced me to do two hours of revision. I'm not sure if I'm annoyed or vaguely grateful, but it almost certainly needed to be done.

And that was my 150th post.
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