The Single Habit

You start the meal before everyone else has so much as looked at the food politely presented before them by the rather untimely paced idiot serving the table, sensing the looks from shocked parties around the table you utter in calmly anti-social strength “I’m hungry, foods ready…” that open pause at the end politely impolitely suggesting something.

You get up to make tea and coolly engage in using the kitchen area; as if the kitchen was yours, because in fact it is someone else’s home and the questioning glare burning into you (civilly of course) invokes an instinctive reaction “Did you want one?” the social wrongness of your actions so far off from where you perceive that the ocean floor from space would be a short distance.

Then it happens in the most socially incorrect of times, the funeral director handing out business cards at a christening even wearing a look of purest shock; you are scratching inappropriately and utter under breath “Blood posh clothes are so uncomfortable, I’m missing my favourite show for this” as the crown collapse in cartoon like fashion with offence.

You then realise as everyone looks at you in sweats and an old t-shirt at the christening in question, the response more blunt as a brick against a square slab of concrete “I’m comfortable, what’s wrong?” the awkwardness exuding truth of the events I have outlined; You have been single too long!

That embedded state of disregard for considered politeness, manners and etiquette naturally informed by the much importantly regarded sense of efficiency and personal consideration has crept assassin like into every corruptly acted tendril of your behaviour and removed the formally observed faff, fuss and care for the extraneous wastes of time that sociability and prolonged company inform.

You are in short; too blunt, ruthless and independent, which admittingly is not a shame inducing thing for the confidently acting individual that proudly personifies the person you gladly are, the freedom it gives an embracingly relished liberation from mass convention.

But the shunning crowds making mass exodus from your current location spells in doom ridden tomes a different tone…

What to do?

For starters; you are asking the person writing this article with glee, warning signs in neon lit glory as a result of this simple act are too obvious not to notice!

Secondly; are you that ashamed? Do you feel the need to be an imposter in the arching story of your life and really, do you care anymore?!

Thirdly; respect the fact that society is full of easily offendable sheep who frighten easily at the sight of proudly sharp teeth, so for the sake of the pathetic masses (that line of thinking another sign you have been single too long!) play dumb and join in with their overly wasteful antics of considered norms to avoid lynch mobs etc (another sign to note!)

Lastly; whoever of the opposite gender (or same, the term ‘whatever makes you happy’ relevant here) who sees YOU and doesn’t run scared… well you are going to have one hell of a good relationship now that you don’t have to lie about who you are for the rest of your long and coupling filled life.

And as a side note I add that if you are in a relationship and recognise in others the glaringly obvious signs of ‘singlitus’ then don’t judge, but a polite note that the pitch forks and torches are in view around the room may just save a life!

Realities of self

“The truth of who we are is all we need to know if we are to understand how we are meant to be, and how we can be better”

This truth is one of many, each a reflection of a different dominate trait that commands our mentality and phycology at its base level, only trumped by the primal drives that are inherent in all life forms and never changes but merely becomes corrupted to fit the socially accepted way to express these primal instincts.

Primal instincts:
Survive, reproduce, live, die and repeat

Man or woman we are bound on some level to these base logics, but by accepting them and learning to keep them within boundaries they don’t limit our ability to grow beyond them and instead give us the basic motivation to survive

Fail to respect their power or ignore them; fatality is more pleasant than when you go too far within societal rules of acceptable behaviour

Love, positivity and hope
These elevate, raise and lift us to new heights and as we gain control over the affects and objectives we aim for, so we shape where these forces take us

But let these blindly positive forces lift us too high without regard for the height we climb to; the air gets too thin and we burn up on the sun

Depression and negativity
These ground us with anchors to restrict and contain our ability to advance, setting limits that with careful control we can change, shift and in turn allow us to grow but within sensible parameters

But let these anchors get too heavy; we sink further into bleak places where our ability to restrain the destructive aspects of these forces diminishes to the point of self-destruction

Realism, unemotional logic and survivalist values
Which option has the best outcome?

That is the limit to your thinking and as much as it may benefit you in the long run, the sacrifices you make on the way when unchecked may not make you happy, just successful

Without emotional consideration the harm your decisions will bring upon others could be considerable, and with such wraith and ill favour upon you comes a fall unrivalled

In all of us are elements of each with added faith, family and social influences to shape the core logics that ultimately decide our personalities, a force indeed with all the myriad of complications that custom blend creates but ultimately one set of values will prove stronger.

And only by accepting this truth will you be able to master these forces and use them to become a better version of who you were meant to be, and/or who you want to be…

And as a matter of curiosity; which of these ‘truths’ describes you best?
And; do you like that it’s what defines you most?


Hold the press: I’m pushing a TV show on my blog


‘BoJack Horseman’ seasons 1-5, another season pending

Some works transcend quality and comedy to a point of excellence, take what could be heavy material like drug addiction, death, life issues, grief, making serious mistakes and living with the consequences and make them seamlessly flow into plots with ease, comedic elements not neglected so to keep the show watchable to an easy degree

This on top of well rounded and such imperfect characters you will see yourself in them so many times, like watching parts of your life on screen on occasion which endears the series to you and pushes you to watch the next episode with flawless temptation

But this is only a TV show? You ask


‘BoJack Horseman’ covers such a range of issues from mental health, troubled family relations to the wealth of flawed human nature that it could be prescribed as therapy, along with the purest bounty of quotes to deal with any pitfall life that may befall you

In terms of quality the only other show that excels in worth by comparison is ‘Justified’ and anyone who knows how religiously I and my family watched that show (even my mum watched it without resorting to doing puzzles on her tablet!) will know just how high praise that is!

So here is an end to probably the only TV show shout out I will put on this blog…

Should you agree with my words, you have a friend for life
If not; I respect your opinion (even if it is wrong in my opinion!)

The Cheer behind the Sneer

Blunt was the description used when the flatly staring humanoid form that you spoke to somehow regained the power of speech, the now only vaguely shaking figure of a person roughly stammering sentences as they pick up the shattered remains of their sense of social values.

Now you have to infuriatingly verbally placate the numbed entity barely stammering some off putting argument about ‘you can’t say that’; I did… ‘that is offence’; it’s the facts… ‘why are you so anti-social’; Why are you the proof that humanity still hasn’t evolved basic intelligence…

As for your real feelings… those less than positively versed replies you keep locked screaming inside of the jail cells concrete set into the logical part of your brain remain thankfully concealed but in the even deeper concealed part of your brain you know the toxically anti-social contaminated reason for why they are best left unrevealed, which isn’t actually horrendously vile but merely that they are offensive to the ill conceived truth (and intelligence, common sense, etc etc) of the challenged masses!

Then a mere speck of time later some other person’s jaw takes the same cliff style leap downwards in response to ‘another incident’ as the gapingly open void presented is fantastically posed to welcome flying wildlife to nest in it, thankfully only a minor reaction to your act of kindness compared to the rudely loud shouts of the backward looking masses wielding pitchforks and torches that you face on a scarily common basis.

Now; the words ‘act of kindness’ and ‘you’ may not instantly trigger a variable flood of cheery reception from the masses so awfully stammering still in trying to comprehend your last (emphasising ‘unintended’) verbal assault but those with a deeper understanding of you than ‘why angry mob suppliers keep raking in the profits’ wouldn’t be so shocked.

Yes your compliments are sometimes treated with the same level of reaction as a hazmat team dealing with a nuclear leak, maybe the crooked reality bending monstrosity that is your smile scares away the creepiest of clowns holding red balloons and possible the room could be less morgue like without you in it but you are actually capable of deeper kindness, better understanding and more practical yet positive wisdom than any of the dumbly milling around humans (offence very much intended!).

How is this possible?

Because you are broken; yes folks you are a broken individual with exposure burns from emotional fires staining the tattered canvas that flies as the remnant flag of your now past noun referred to humanity, and no that’s not an insult but a compliment… honestly it is!

Without the fluffy rounded edges so annoyingly engrained into the insultingly ignorant masses you cut to the heart of matters with the efficiency of a cat attacking an open tuna can, that shocking event immobilizing the dimly staring horde, that you over casually refer to as ‘just another crap storm’ fails even to illicit a feigned air of surprise as you wade into the mess as a nurse unemotionally treats a gushing wound.

The fact you coolly used the words “You look a mess, anxiety episode or just a plain panic attack?” then you say to the still dumbly frozen flock of bodies you are seemingly swarmed by “let’s get you away from the idiots and put you back into a functional state, you can’t cock up everyone’s day forever” to which the horde gasped… the person you’re helping however; they smiled.


Like the gruffly posed old man/women in the American movie that no one likes, but ends up helping out in the most unexpected way; you are, can be and will be a good person in abundance to friends, family and trusted co-workers and even stretch that hand to the undeserving detractors circling in vulture like fashion.

Are you a social butterfly stretching its wings in mesmerising patterns, wowing the masses with dazzling social pyrotechnics to amaze Elton John’s wardrobe director? No

Are you going to excel with equally mesmerising form in the arts of positive projection and the finely attuned societal manipulations others deftly manoeuvre, without losing a leg to the minefield of faffy emotional awareness? The distinct limp and red stuff staining your career hopes answers that!

Do you really care? NO!!

But can you be a good a person? Yes

Are you equipped for an honest relationship with a like minded or accepting soul? Yes

Do your friends and family still like you? Yes

So should you care if an anti venom kit is a basic requirement when conversing with/interacting with/been near overly common idiots (for their sake)?! Fuck No

Anxiety and Risk; The problem with modern culture

Example; a man tells a women he likes her, she shyly makes a harmless excuse but doesn’t say if she is interested in him or not and leaves it awkward

What happens here?

Does the source of the issue get addressed in a tactically quick and yes maybe slightly humiliating way for the offending party or is the awkward continuation of perceived offence allowed to anxiously burn deeper into the psyche (and have potentially unnecessary consequences), the initial act a minor event to be resolved mercifully quick now transmuted into an emotionally burning wound which may never heal.

From an anxiety sufferers perception this minefield of potential for overblown reactions and ill conceived wrongs where it was a merely innocent act of best, honest and inoffensively versed intentions carries the threat of every weighted curse possible for just opening your mouth, trying your luck or the slightest act of taking a risk.

Say the women bluntly but civilly said “I respect your guts, but no and no” followed with a sly wry smile and “here’s enough for a drink to heal your wounded pride and toast your bravery, but please don’t ask again”

Is it a pleasant way to end the encounter, maybe not in the seemingly socially expectant way of letting minor issues become unnecessary shit storms by the passing it up through corrupting layers of amplifying misconception resulting in monumentally heavy tomes of punishing consequences but ask yourself; which is less painful, a quick but politely blunt rejection or been left with the fear of a ‘me too’ been campaign started in your honour two months later?

(Now if the male in question hasn’t got the required brains to clock the obviously glaring reality from your clear as day polite rejection, a slight sting of temporary humiliation the worse thing about the whole experience; then a verbal kick in the nuts and his once parts of his body roasting flavoursome with a hint of pepper etc over an open fire, it is very much justified and feel no guilt when publically burning him!)

Won’t this resolution cause harm or friction you ask?

Yes, yes and as purposely implied yes

The act of feeling negative emotions is Mother Nature’s way of teaching us a lesson, the act of failure been a sensation that lasts longer than success with a purposeful reason; to prevent the mistake been repeated so to prevent the same issue reoccurring in the future or to a worse degree, with a peppering of respect and humour there should be no lasting offence caused.

It is the perversion of this simplistic process of a quick application of pain/failure leading to a lesson learned and the mistake therefore avoided in future, that now in modern culture has caused an ocean of news stories that make trivial and wholly easily resolved matters publicly gross affairs epically expanded to such levels it would be treated a kin to a war crime to breathe in someone’s direction, such legally and professionally pursued processes having their place in modern justice I confess but sometimes ask yourself; wouldn’t it be quicker to just be honest and blunt in the moment and save a lot of drama if possible.

If the sabre tooth tiger getting provoked by our ancestor passed it up through the professional food chain to be dealt with later instead of growling in our face and swiping an impressive claw on one occasion, then the ill informed species of early humanity would have repeated their mistake and our ancestors would have ended up a tasty diner and we wouldn’t now exist!

(And yes maybe in hindsight humanities early demise is maybe a good thing, but out of that cock up us bloggers came to exist so I’ll live with it!)

This for anxiety sufferers is an issue that with taunting cruelty haunts us as the potential outcome for been ourselves, not limited to the admittedly leading example of asking a woman out but in terms of wider spread effects as to how we analysis the environments around us and how we interact with them.

So without removing the simplest respect of using a merciful method don’t be afraid to cause to a little pain, as long as that momentary sting prevents further harm or issue down the line and has every respectful intent not to cause offence; because a verbal slap in the face may sting like a bitch of a frozen cod impacting your skin but in the long run, it damn well works compared to anxiety nightmares and stressful rivers fed a thousand fold to fester cruelly over time to poison a person to life itself.


A loosely termed ‘sense of humour’ required!

You cracked a joke

“She’s not here today because she is ill, that’s very bad news; one more day of her mindless chatter and I was going to earn a sick day!”
“That’s such a nice story about how you two met, congratulations; you can be the next person to get the honour of passing me a bucket!”
“You’re getting married; invite me to the funeral because that would a more fun event and black is way more slimming than a wedding dress!”

Everyone cracked up, only literally!

Now you are laughing as the shattered fragments of stares looking horrified burn into you and it is a funny sight to grinningly behold, but only to you as the further horrified faces before you prove

The HR manager now writing another letter home to your mother, whom they are calling to collect you because they can’t trust anyone else to survive hearing you talk

Yes folks it is true; your ‘sense of humour’ is fucked, in all the ways that makes you laugh as people’s faces become macabre pictures

You ask yourself at every funeral like reception you receive for having just walked into a room; how you ended up this way, and the blankly staring (heavily medicated to boot) therapist merely placates you with passively failing phrases like “You are unique” “You are just a bit different” “You will find people like you to share your inner self”…the equally blankly bleak response delivered by you with sledgehammer style; “Where are these people, on the mental ward they dug you up from” before the fatally funny line, plain fatal to any further meaningful discussion “the same ward you must live on to be here talking to me”

The recently installed child locks actually hold this time as the mental health nurses drag the therapist away from the failing to open fifth floor window…

I’m sorry to report this will be your life from now on, as long as you ‘are yourself’ around the majority of that mercifully dumb sub-species known as humanity

But don’t worry, whoever you don’t offend will prove to be more than required to match that acidic spitting wit grafted with ugly fixes to your already woefully corrupted personality!

And if you get into a healthy (ish) relationship…

Tell the rest of us how, because you have pulled off a fucking miracle!!




Words as Labels as a Stain

So… you were the precursor to Damian but thrown on the reject pile and having found the receipt from where your parents purchased you; it’s just a series of 6’s split into groupings of three…

Now the pesky horns that insipidly keep protruding from your comically oversized hat are catching the scorching looks of those mortal souls around you, and the sulphurous footprints in the wake of where you attempted to stomp covertly have garnered the further scorching looks of Mr Happy; his merry vibes strangled with torturous screams because you looked in his direction.

Are you a monster? No, just occasionally drawn to perusing the counter of negativity that most avoid for the fact of the somewhat gooey rotting corpses of merry folks who couldn’t endure the harmfully eroding emanations from the section infamously labelled ‘The Best Hell Has to Offer’.

It may be evident in these positively fatal opening lines that I am referring to the cursedly happy truth that you are not predestined to be an angelic type of shiny halo wearing fame, the eroded frames and spasmodic smiles of the last fools who disrespected you an evident charm of your loosely titled ‘existence’ in place of the overwhelmingly brimming sparkles of how others are classified as ‘living’.

So what does this mean?

It means that you are cursed to forever dredge the less pretty remains of humanities casually discarded contentment for bitterly soured flicks of what you will never find in the painfully drawn out torture the living gleefully label ‘being alive’ …Or so it would seem?

Or it means that in the continued tradition of life’s mysterious balancing act you will not be inhabiting the ‘positive’ side of the deal, or gleefully running through the green fields of all that promotes a projectile need to put your lunch on the ruby clicking heels of those merry frolicking folk. This appears to be a fatality of a gutter punch delivered with venomous spite but wipe the public condemnation away with the baby blanket left by the running horde (their screaming mere minor inconvenience by now!) and a different picture resonates with negatively positive glow.

This hidden truth is that although negativity is by its own spelling a reminder of less merry ramifications with the word ‘negative’ inbuilt into any seemingly damning variation of the phrasing, when examined from the darkened side of nature’s ingenuity it is merely an alternative viewpoint on the world that harks less of smiles but the smirking grimaces of an alternative humour. So in this vein an illusion of damnation transforms with miraculous genius into a new horizon of that blackened sun you once viewed differently, such twisted stems of the black roses you would have avoided before now hold such singular beauty in their architecture you see the truth reflected in your stained halo with firework like revelations.

The terms; ‘positive’ and ‘negative’ are labels that stain things with a historical narration of conceived image which only serve to denounce or elevate people’s actions, and unlike ‘good’ and ‘evil’ are a lot less easy to assign to pithy moral judgements that carry the weighty heft of historical reputation. A pessimist can be happy without the sickening need to endlessly sing in Disney style vocals about how everything will be fine, just as a depressive can laugh as loud and joyfully than any fluffy bunny type dumbly gawping at a kitten joke.

The real enemy of a person (positively or negatively attuned) is themselves; a depressive who never seeks to try and understand the allure of green fields and sunshine with the (at times unlucky) attempts at stretching their strained limbs to reach the light will never be able to improve their situation, therefore falling into unforgivable degrees of grossly self indulgent harmful states.

Equally a person of more positive alignment who never daringly glimpses the potential horizon of a bad outcome will be the over easy cannon fodder of every conning bar steward and despicable character who would take advantage of their blindingly optimism, or with more condemning side affects to personal morality see themselves as above all those who are not like them and be unforgivable consumed by powerful illusions of superiority and rightness, such lack of understanding and empathy unforgivable by even the standards of the guy with red horns and a tail!

So to conclude; Words are mere descriptive tools and not labels to be abrasively attached to personalities, so if someone says ‘I suffer depression’ don’t cliff jump deep into automatic assumption about them or not take the time to explore the myriad of other aspects to that persons character. And to slightly confess to my own misgivings and personal experiences in times of deepest darkness; never assume on the blind basis of a smile that someone seemingly happy isn’t without a dark side, or incapable of understanding what you feel or even more criminally that they haven’t felt as low or worse than you at some time of misfortune’s striking adversity.

“Whether you see the petals or the thorns, none can deny the beauty of a rose”

Sledgehammer Subtlety

Sledgehammer subtlety a luxury to wish for as the metaphorical slam job condemns with the physical force of a runaway freight train; it’s been that kind of a week!

Holding hellion tight every lucidly horrendous tendril of my nervous state with but a jaded (to put to shame any depressive arsehole) sense of positivity, waving so carelessly into the face of the coming storm front akin to the scaled destruction to any heavy metal festival on acid.

That is the dose of prickly punctuating due I hath earned through the mortally damning sin of hard work, the thing so demanded but rarely rewarded in glittering ribbons and wrapped with human warmth for the lonely single man. All endured so I may wastefully pay the price in illness through the hallowed free time so given the name of ‘Weekend’, which even then I work!

And so where does the condemned turn; The arms of a good woman? The merrily greeting arms of friends? The warming hues of a functional family?.. NO

I see only a bar so hauntingly inhabited by the corrupting patrons of a demonic curse, as so prescribed in mournful jest by the unholy trilogy, a place so praised in everlasting screaming that beckons forth in attempts of resistance these three horsemen; Anxiety, Depression and Stress

The demons do drown a bottle or two as my glass overflows with outpourings of acidic hate towards those red horned bar stewards providing the drinks, alas the unforgiving state a man may find his fractured self drowning in when those demons are all which keep the fires burning at night. Even less forgiving the disdainfully tormenting embers of that fire; the result of purest rage rampantly consuming with reddened flames, each licking of these so elatedly heated daggers no longer drawing a scream of pain but in loud acclaim a royally coated ‘Fuck you’ in full literary regalia.

And surely all this should be so painlessly remunerated but by the hallowed knowledge that all this I will endure again such redemption murkily sinks to where despair reeks a fouler sense of ill intent, even less gratifying is the fact that should I turn to a razor that others will suffer, so in that self accusing knowledge I must live on.

I would consider myself rich in good values but each cursed tome of morality seems only a weight to drag me down to deepened levels of honest intentioned hell.

“If pain is a reminder that we are alive to live in elated merriness

So I should be dead by the overdosing of joy

Or in lack of feeling know that elated merriness is dead

And no longer a taunt in every suffering second of life I must remain”



So the stale conversation and repeating words that hold little interest to your mortally morale lacking brain drivel on… a few feted tears over wine dribble miserably into existence as diner beckons. It’s horrifically public and dining out has as ever never dragged so much but at least something is happening… someone is having an emotional breakdown at your table and you don’t even consider it an event of note!

Shock plastered as a cream pie from a clowns hand decorates everyone’s faces as words are shared to placate the grieving party, diner is damn tasty and you wish not to waste money by leaving any of it, an emotionally broken and fragility ridden form fractures as it leaves the scene. Everyone else seems to shade themselves a new colour of scandalous shock, words of all flavours both criticise and acknowledge the simmering pain that hath bubbled over and spoiled the whole tasty affair of eating.

And you don’t care!

When untainted eyes hath blinkered sight into turmoil soaked reality any spike in emotionally straining events causes a stir, ranges of vision so narrow to ever expanding waves of sorrow find shock in such meaningless displays of painfully distain causing exhibitions of human weakness. Those tainted by the brutal ripping of such blessings as blinkers away from sight now corroded into darkest depths, each fatal downward step into that everlasting pit burning away another level of reactive shock others expect.


So use to things such as kitchen knives on flesh, catastrophic crumbling into distress otherwise feebly called breakdowns, violent outbursts of the moment and aftershocks of that wretched point of time, and having to eat in one room as things slamming rock bottom occur in where you wish you could watch TV… MEANS NOTHING

And the only thing casually uttered to those undeserving of/protected from the secret tortures unwontedly witnessed by your coldly glazed eyes, so severely severing of common realities, are the serenely spoken phase “Seen worse”.

Otherwise known as ‘How fucked up can you get’!

Otherwise known as ‘Immune’

The Anti-Social Expert’s guide to Communication and Social Interaction



So; you enter the room and everyone’s temperature dips several degrees below that of the discarded frozen item in the staff fridge, even the Ice Queen Boss making ice cubes out of her assistant’s tears has adjusted the heating dial to a severely notable degree. The way you say hello just sent the poor soul you were harmlessly addressing into various athletic fits of epileptic fear, so extreme the devil is offering rates if you would work as a consultant.


Having explained to the poor soul’s next of kin you were only saying ‘hello’ and that the fear induced paralysis is only temporary, it mentally occurs that maybe you need to improve your communication skills. The hushed gathering of slack jawed, idiotic, barely half capable and non-relevant persons (thinking in these terms may be a hint of more severe anti-social issues!) gives you the perfect opportunity to announce this.

Using the words “Don’t worry cretins, I’ll attempt not to overload your puny brains by appearing less intelligent and improving my social skills” will counter any potential good that this announcement could potentially achieve.

1: Sense of Humour

Susan from accounting has had a bad day; “Don’t worry, you can use the gun after me, just wipe the brain matter off first in case it stains your top” with a smile on your face… And for some reason she isn’t laughing. Those not afflicted by the distinctly bleak dark humour your anti-social sub-routines operate on may be offended, insulted, shocked, blindly scream in a high pitched fashion or plain old stare in confusion as bluntly as a tech specialist at a dating event.

Try using sickeningly merry terms like “…..” (I would fill in that blank but that might induce uncontrollable vomiting and nausea) or merely smile brightly, preferable without the manic style serial killer effect or vampiric teeth. Following this advise and providing the socially reassuring rot most people consider conversation will avoid the paralytic shock reactions, saying horrifically common and optimistic phrases should further the suicidal need to cleanse your brain with a… I mean; should improve the quality of interaction you have with the cretins… I mean; with other people.

Use of a bucket or hollow receptacle after spouting such cringe worthy repellent phrases and positive terminology is expected so be prepared!

2: Body Language, behaviours and assorted accessories

Resting a pair of scissors on that thinly protective veil of flesh called a wrist will in other anti-social types rather benignly muster a “too messy, and not in the workplace” with a casually blank glance at the pair of scissors taping against their own wrist”. The two days unshaven look is to any fellow non-human not of obvious concern, along with the coldly dead stare and eerily blunt as a brick to a sponge cake delivery style of “I’m fine”.

But to those unnecessarily emotionally sensitive saps who are not yet internally deadened; these signs will engender the need to mindlessly probe and question your mood till the stapler in your hand is playing their head like a drum.

Appearing, dare I utter the insulting word, ‘human’ will reinforce the falsely projecting ideal that when partnered with a freshly smart attire that you are not some sub-human creature, as whom ever has the misfortune of knowing the real you will in fact know is a bare faced screaming lie. Adding a smile, an emoji and some merry happy wordidge will effect successful blending in with the nauseatingly communal mass.

Note: Therapists are fine with you confessing the want to permanently silence annoying co-workers, but blood stains and holding a bloodied stapler will lead to panic from even the most hardened head doctors!

3: Acknowledging other people’s lives/Mindless drivel known as small talk

The literary exploratory of the various realms of hell are acutely accurate to the personal pits of suffering that you feel when engaging in small talk and uttering “I had a mini breakdown, failed to be social and ended up dabbling in self-harm” when asked how your weekend went will clash with the normalised response of “(Whatever happy/mindless shit the merry flock get up to)”. The mandatory trip to the company therapist is a nice half hour away from the desk however!

The ‘Married with kids’ and ‘In happy relationship’ crowd will have many new and verbally colourful explanations of all the stuff that drives deeper the embedded natural hatred of everything you lack, thus the momentous urge to vocally silence their tedious conversational offerings will be naturally present. Resist this urge and outwardly show a version of yourself who sprouts genuine sounding vague and cheery responses, which matches the clean shaven and smartly presented human from my previous advisory; therefore preventing the mandatory ten yard distance that anyone with a notion of happiness regularly maintains.

Unless you really are so filled with hatred/annoyance/stress that the very ground your hoofs make contact with melts with the acid dripping off your tongue, in which case call in sick to avoid having to replace the stapler… again!


We are not people; we are what we are and each to their own, or in my case a sub-human creature

People are ‘social’ and they ‘smile’ as well as acting ‘human’, it’s not that anti-social types can’t do any of those things but merely that it’s not how ‘people’ do it. So be positive and sound like the herd that follow the numbingly head bashing normalised standards of conformity, and if all else fails you can always find a nice cliff and take diving lessons (See the first point for why not to say that in public!).

Within the huddled and joyfully depressive crowds of sub-human creatures we feel at home within all manners of dark humour to a point of being sectioned, conversational cliff dives about the nature of all that drives the daggers into your back and alcoholism inducing topics we love to exchange words about are all fine to share. Society on the normalised level however is complicit with happy happy shiny folk that secretly we wish to feel more like, even if that idea makes us wretch!

So in all the perfectly conjured solutions I have offered here today take solace in lying, through your teeth, bare faced and so blindingly glaring that the happy happy shiny folk can feel good about themselves. Not the way the self-help books would word it but at the core, the truth!

As long as you have someone in your life with which to freely dive the horrid depths of all misery, bluntness and sheer lack of even a microscopic hint of social graces you will be as ok as possible; for with those equally blessed/damned souls you can be yourself, which as ever is where happiness resides.