As a general warning which will NOT be repeated in the following journals: I'm a sarcastic asshole, so expect sarcasm. I don't think there's something in this world that's so futile it doesn't deserve mockery. And that's sarcastic too.

So what's the first thing i could write about in this journal? The first thing i had in my mind was writing against Italians who write long politically-charged posts on this website in Italian. I hate that, it's like trolling with good intentions: a deplorable insult to the noble art of trolling and a complete negation of the nice fact of having a point. Then i thought to write a journal about my hate of "other atheists", because they make me feel stupid for being smart. Then i thought: FUCK I HATE EVERYTHING, and i was like -shit!- i should write about everything, hating it, like a mystical dictionary of bitterness, starting why i hate the vocal A, ending with a long tirade about how shitty is "ZZZ" as an onomatopoeia. That would have been a pretty long journal.

Then i got a sudden enlightenment: the first thing i hate that's worth hating about, is my English.

It sucks. It REALLY sucks.

As an Italian speaker i have a padronance of the language that's a little bit better than the local norm. That's because i read books: not the ones with sexless fanfiction of undead guys between the two cover slabs, the ones with ideas inside; and no I'm not even talking about the ones with the ideas outside the books (like Joyce's Ulysses or Dante's Divine Comedy), i'm talking about beautiful fiction, that nice spot between Harry Potter and Italo Calvino's works.

The sheer lack-of-suck in my Italian makes me feel as cool as a the awkward kid who goes to the beach with his classmates, but he's a little fatty, and a little dorky, and really opposed to the common notion that you should throw yourself in the water without a shirt. And everybody chuckles at him, and points at him, and the girls laughs at him because he can't even be bothered to leave his goofy backpack. And then, while everybody but him has its own fun, swimming, laughing and spraying water... he's all alone suffering the heat, and the sand, and the sun, hating the white pigeons with the curious feets who pass as "sea birds". And then a lone scream comes from the sea, and then another, and another one, and another one, and one shouts an agonizing "Jellyfish! Everywhere! There's a jellyfish invasion!". It's only then that the awkward kid stands up, goes near the most acceptable female specimen whom he can find with his dirty eyeglasses, and with a too-cool for words smile, says: "Vinegar. I've got lots of it in my backpack." He's been waiting three summers for that fucking comeback.

That's a pretty long way to say I'm a smug Nazi grammar when writing in Italian. I know. Deal with it.

When i write in English, all of this is lost. All i could do is trying to glue words in a not-too-horrible-way, copy & paste 4chan memes hoping that the funny is not already lost, and praying to not be caught by the fellow foreign grammar's Nazis for improper use of some relative pronoun.

It's a shame. So much potential drama lost.
It feels like the disappointment of those guys who ordered the construction of the atomic bomb: so much potential for a global holocaust, and yet, so much peace because everybody got it too fast.