The Obscure

Another terrible day gone, another uneventful night begun!
So I am sitting here in my on the flawless geniune leather seating in my brand new, preowned, luxery sedan, I'm keeping a careful eye on my tiny slumbering nephew, and I am thinking to myself, "What strange turn of events has brought me here?"
The catch-phrase of my hackneyed cartoonist world has never quite caught the tone of my life as well as it does now. It seems as if the whole of my existence were some weird accident (suchas the one I was in earlier today, that I am not going to get into right now). I was born here, and it made a very loud noise, then everything spun around a lot, and suddenly I was sitting here blinking with a cramp in my neck, 500 dollars worth of damages, and some random woman's insurance information.
I kind of abandoned that analogy partially through and just turned it into an actual description of an accident; but I think my main point is still a good one. The frenzy of action seems to deaden my awareness, and time, being a constanst string of actions and reactions, has all past me in a strange haze. Every now and then my mind gets too weighed down with odd thoughts to move, time stands still for a moment and I become fully aware of my surroundings--and I say quietly (for fear of waking the baby), "What strange turn of events has brought me here?"
I then write an incongruent blog post about it. I hope you enjoyed this thundering roar of literary crap.

Anyway, what I was getting at before I got bogged down in the analogy that I eventually abandoned in favor of raving nonsense is this: life is entirely unenjoyable. The only time I have ever felt content in life is when I've been so miserable that I've accepted that I will never be happy and stop my futile efforts to make life worth living.
My nephew is crying now, I must go baby him. It's ok though, he's a baby.