I can think of four different subjects I wouldn't mind having a bit of a moan about this evening. In the great scheme of things none of the subjects counts for much at all. I'm not sure they even attain the status of being trivial. So it's odd and disconcerting that I'm so strongly drawn to moaning about them, almost as if I'm trying to mildly inflate them to the point they have some status. I suppose this is a way of avoiding confronting my own lack of substance. Ouch.
(One of the moans involved my thoughts on razor-blades and how I dislike all those now available on the market. Must say, I'm happy to have spared myself the trouble of writing about that.)
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