sure i suppose it’ll give you a chance to get the aul suit out for something anyways francis

Jean-Paul Sartre (an edgy bastard who I won’t even pretend to have read) once (supposedly) claimed that hell was other people, Matt Colquhoun corrected this by claiming that hell was the inescapability of other people – both were wrong, hell is the inescapability of other people’s small-talk during a wake. I feel weird as I write this mini-post, I’ve a funeral to go to in roughly eleven hours and I feel extremely voyeuristic to even mention this point – I’ll probably send this draft to a few friends (assuming I even finish the thing) before dumping it on this Neocities page and will presumably be unable to read it ever again after it ends up on there. I don’t want to dwell on this sense of grief or loss for much (if any) of this piece, I don’t want to play as some sort of victim and i don’t want to come off in a similar tone as I did when I sent countless emails to explain why my assignments weren’t going to come in on time for a while – I just want to dwell a bit on the weirdness of rural Irish culture as I start to experience it again (the first time I talked to a person who didn’t live in my house since March was as the family member passed on Tuesday). I’m not sure if there’s much of worth to whoever ends up reading this blog (if this is your first ill post, please go to my Katie Dey piece) but it feels like something I have to get out there – even if it does mean you miss out on a Thursday post where I just copy-paste half of some random book I read a month ago in an attempt to explain the internet.