Being Fed Up

Right now I'd say I'm pretty damn fed up with a lot of things, and when it all comes together, it means that I am generally starting to get fed up with life. I'm bored of so many things now, I've made so many mistakes and have taken (and probably without even realising, given) so much shit that I don't quite know what to think at the moment. Perhaps this is why Football Manager and my music (more than ever) have become such stupidly integral parts of my life right now (btw, Frank Ribery on a free transfer really did make my week...wait, does this mean I'm the detritus of the Earh?) They're just what I enjoy most, and at the moment I'm not quite experienced enough to see that it's a massive waste of my time, so for now it's okay. I'm so fed up that many many things in my life that would normally (on some level) excite me simply cause reactions of mild 'cba' or 'meh' or 'kjhfnkajfhcmiu' or 'okay'. I was given some money recently, and though my confusion and 'fed-upness' certainly did not shirk off my gratitude, I almost didn't care. Yes, losing some lust for money (and potentially greed) may very well be a good thing, but to me it very much so isn't good when as well as this, I now eat a lot less (I'M SUPPOSED TO LOVE FOOD), and my care for football (including dear old troubled Liverpool FC) has dwindled significantly, with me desperately trying to talk about it constantly in the meagre hope that maybe, just maybe, the interest will come back. Aaaargh, it's worse than I first feared! Sitting in front of me are 7 brand new CDs that I just bought, and I don't seem to want them on my iPod. I just can't be bothered, but I want to be bothered! And when I look back, I realise that actually, there's more to come. If you know me, you'll unfortunately (and I'm genuinely sorry for this) know that I love to argue. Now, sometimes I'd argue in a good way, and in a light hearted way, and sometimes it would be in a way which could only ever irritate and aggravate people. I'm not proud of this, and for some reason it seems to be my number 1 skill. But now, it's only the latter. Maybe somebody (me) needs to shut the fuck up...(though even if I do shut the fuck up and get myself out of this strange rut for which I think I know the reason, I'll still keep blogging like a retard, so again, unlucky). For me personally though, most worryingly of all, is this, and I'll explain it in a very blunt way: 1 week, Muse, Wembley. Not excited. Now, fair enough, I'm certainly not an excitable person - this is indicated by the fact that the last time Christmas or my birthday made me grin is not an 'event' that I can remember. So anyway. Why SHOULD I be excited about Muse at Wembley? Well...oh screw it, I'm bored now, the few of you that may be reading this long winded stack of aimless words will probably understand without having to read an essay on why music is dying and how Muse are ambassadors for (rock) musical awesomeness, so I'm just going to finish here with no conclusion to this poor, blind, defenceless lump of a blog post. I'll force out a slightly more 'entertaining' (less boring) one with some kind of supposedly witty direction to it for you next time around, whenever that may be.