And so it begins

As a latecomer to all fads for as long as I remember, why should I be surprised to find myself starting a blog at this time?

Since I first encountered talk of the "'blog", a rather ugly contraction, I have pondered the "Why?"... and yet I have finally succumbed without any satisfactory answer. Already I am struck by the fundamental problem of who am I writing for? My vanity dictates a fantasy of an enthralled readership, longing to slog through my pointless meandering style of self analysis, and yet I try to tell myself that it is in the process of writing, rather than in being read, in which I may gain some therapeutic benefit. Indeed I hope to write with the freedom that would be lost if I give in to my vanity and direct people to read this...

So what do I write? An account of the failings of our society, as seen through my own vastly superior insight?HA! The vile filth that permeates my diseased mind? We shall have to wait and see.

For now I'll start with the basics, and introduce myself to the theoretical reader.
G'day - Dave here, 37 yo, single white guy and father to a beautiful boy who is 18 months old... I have a high IQ, a history of depression and drug abuse since around age ten. Academic social retard for a father, depressive alcoholic mother, no siblings, alternative schooling. I spent much of my life out of it one way or another, because the world made a little more sense that way. I've now been off booze and drugs for several years, but am in danger of a minor relapse and take too many over-the-counter painkillers for the pathetic dregs of codeine they contain.

I desperately crave approval and strive to be liked if not loved, the greatest challenge for me here will be to express the thoughts I never share - the ones that would bring rejection, perhaps even hatred. Even though I'm anonymous, I struggle with that already.

Perhaps that is the "Why" that I seek...