Just moved in to my halls of residence, and boy howdy is there nobody here. Like, no-one. It’s like I’m living with ghosts, every now and again I’ll hear voices and knocking but it’s never on my floor, and there’s a massive mess in the kitchen, so people probably live in my flat. I’m really self-conscious of the music I play ‘cause I’m afraid they’ll judge me based on that. UNI’S MINT OTHERWISE THOUGH MWAHMWAHMWAH.

Well, I just found out through a status by my Auntie that dad had a sister who died 15 years ago today. Time to be an actually good son, I guess.

Crazy big surprise, Pitchforked hated Childish Gambino’s first studio album. They make a couple of good points, and he does use Hashtag Rap a lot, but a 1.6 out of 10? That’s just stupid, it’s a pretty great album, and the punchline is they essentially describe parts as “self-obsessed”. Pitchfork describing someone as self-obsessed? Something about a pot and a kettle and black. Maybe it’s because there was a terminal lack of eating cockroaches in the video for Bonfire.

Every Sunday I always seem to just have one band that I listen to over and over, it’s like an unintentional theme sort of thing. This Sunday it’s Social Distortion, because the early 90s will forever remain the best portion of a decade, and that’s a heated competition. Also, their first studio album is called “Mommy’s Little Monster”, appropriate for today because it’s allegedly mother’s day.

This alleged mother’s day I decided to be unconventional and counter-culture, so I got my mum a box of chocolates and a Hallmark card. I’m so unique and interesting!

My favourite ever thing to do is to lie on my back on a clear day or night and just stare directly upwards, into space. It’s weird, you suddenly get this sense of scale that you can’t maintain whilst walking around, eyes front. It makes me think about just the mind-blowing size of the universe, which makes me just feel relieved.

What I’m saying is we should walk around with our heads bent backwards at a 90 degree angle. It’d be mint, no one would care about anything.

Well, tonight I learned that my life isn’t particularly planned out or formulaic, so that’s good I guess. Existentialism and nihilism make so much sense when you’re drunk.

To do list for today:

Just wear the leather jacket and stop second guessing it as a coat choice. I mean, really, it’s not a world-breaking decision, it doesn’t look that cold outside.

Not listen to rap the entire day, I’m not in any way a gangster, no matter how much I think I am when I’m walking and listening to it.

Not fall asleep until I’m actually at home. Tall order.

Not make uncomfortably long eye-contact with someone I don’t know because I’m just zoning out and trying not to fall asleep.

Don’t smile at strangers, Marc, it generally doesn’t go over well. No, it’s not polite, it’s weird.

Don’t slightly bump into someone then spend the entire time they’re in ear-shot apologising.

Don’t assume people want to read my weirdly specific to-do list.