Wrong

I was going to try to blog, but I realized that there is something fundamentally wrong. There is something fundamentally wrong with the way I write sentences. I am writing my sentences all wrong, and it's happening at a structural level. Right off the bat. Before I even begin to write the sentences I would write in order to blog, there is something wrong.

My writing is wrong.

And, you can't see it. That's the tricky part. It's not anything to do with my rather pedestrian syntax. My sentence fragments. What's wrong with my sentences? It can't be parsed. Not by a grammarian. It can't be judged by a critic. Or any reader, really.

The thing that's wrong with my sentences is buried so deep, it's a secret to everyone but me.

This makes sense—in a way. You're reading this, and it makes sense. I think it makes sense.

But, it also makes no sense at all on a fundamental level. But, you don't notice the part that doesn't make sense, because it is happening before this is typed out.

It's like, Borges said he didn't like sans serif fonts. They were stripped down. The architecture of each letter was ugly because it was unadorned. It's like that.

Or, wait. No it's not.

Or, maybe.

I just don't know.

I just know that because everything is completely wrong and fucked up before it even begins, I can't blog.