I am coming to realize that I have a lot of really scary demons that I need to own up to, and it makes me uncomfortable. This is the kind of madness that has brought great men to tragic demises.
ennui (one of the trendy magazines that never never capitalized the first letter of its name) was the preferred monthly journal of those who preferred to …well you know. Not interested in this or that, they seldom looked forward to their ennui each month, but a subscription just seemed to drag on forever and a day. Lacking any focus in life, getting the subscription stopped was just more than they could focus on, so that wasn’t an option, either. Still published today, each copy of ennui is universally greeted by its subscriber with a “meh” and then tossed onto the coffee table where it gathers dust until someone gets around to just throwing it away.
4 minutes of white people problems set to a xylophone
(via kocoumbuthessoserious)
