Lately, I've woken up before the alarm goes off. Frustrated by the shortage of sleep, I never get up off the bed shortly. I spend some sixty minutes browsing through twitter, hatena blog, or whatever. Every time I do this, it makes me wonder why it is that they post stuff of little value but they write it in such a way as implies that they think it is invaluable. I will never know the answer, nor do I want to. However, it assures me that I, too, may write articles of little moment, only I do so otherwise than they do. I will write what I know is not significant in a way that is indicative of my conviction that it is valueless. This year oftentimes drives it home to me that I am narrow-minded, inexperienced, immature, uncultured, dumb, and the list goes on forever. To live my life is to expose myself as a nobody who produces nothings. It appears that I could live this life. A life full of meaning sucks. May it be cursed.