Like 90% of the entire human race I like to see myself as a unique special snowflake, with thoughts and habits and opinions that belong to me and me alone. Of course this isn’t the case, but it is an ideal that allows me to live each day without the violent notion that at any minute I might flip out and put a bullet in my brain.


Yesterday I got to thinking about all the experiences I just assumed were mine and mine alone before I knew/bothered to find out different.

”I’m the only person having trouble defeating ‘that boss’ ”

This was before I had access to the internet, and indeed after I had access to it because it never occurred to me to check. You know that asshole boss in whatever game who just won’t go down, and the 15th appearance of the ‘GAME OVER’ screen leaves you clutching the disc in your trembling hands, vision blurred through incandescent tears of rage, fervently hoping to God, Buddha, or whatever deity listens to the prayers of angry gamer nerds, that plastic feels pain. The boss in question for me is the acid shooting spider in Tomb Raider: Angel Of Darkness, undoubtedly the worst game in the franchise. I bought the fucking game in 2003. I still haven’t beaten it. I just assumed it was me. ‘You’re just shit at this game’ I would say to myself, as the menu politely asked if I would like to load again, Kurtis Trent’s mangled corpse still visible in the foreground. ‘Its just you being a shit gamer.’ Well, I am pleased to report that it is not just me and this game is actually just an unplayable piece of shit. I want to snap it in half, spit on it and send it back to Eidos.

”I’m the only person who finds it difficult to write by hand nowadays”

I spend at LEAST 30% of most days on the internet as, I’m sure, do many of you, whether you are maintaining your blog or your Bebo, or whatever the fuck it is you crazy kids are into nowadays. I spend a lot of time typing. But when I have to use my hand to write, a) my handwriting is lazy illegible chicken scrawl and b) more than three sentences and I literally find myself struggling to ‘fight the burn’. Its like a 80s training montage, with shots of me flexing my fingers and grimacing. For a long time I thought that was just me, but of course in this internet age of ours, it’s really not. This makes me feel like less of a sloping brow dum-dum, as some of the most intelligent people I know have occasionally been struck with the affliction. But also in many ways superior, because I was the only person who thought to bring it up. BRB congratulating self.

”I’m the only person who sometimes ‘feels weird’ touching paper”

I sometimes used to get the most violent shivers, as if watching Rik Waller disrobe, whenever I somehow managed to turn the page of a book ‘wrong’. At age 9, I just assumed it was normal, but one fateful playtime when I worked up the courage to talk to my close knit group of 15 ‘best friends’ about it, I found that, judging by the sea of blank faces, no-one else had ever experienced this peculiarity. So I decided it must just be me, in that blithe way I imagine children who can see ghosts and shit do. Anyway, 4 years later I was finally diagnosed with Tactile Dysfunction, which is a neurological disorder that basically makes you rubbish when it comes to sensory processing, that is to say ‘touching shit’. It hasn’t really affected my life, except I still can’t feel paper or certain materials without feeling strange and my hands need to be clean ALL THE TIME. Which in London, is a bit like a naive first year trying to disguise the walk of shame by taking a whore bath and throwing a cardigan over last night’s bustier, pleather mini skirt and visible ‘SEXY BITCH’ diamante thong. Or like trying to find one of those orange men in Ed Hardy t-shirts and £270 ‘distressed denim’, with even a hint of self awareness. It is damn near impossible.

”I’m the only person who thought that watching Skins (S3) was kind of like having someone repeatedly stamp on your genitals”

I thought the first two series were absolutely magical. Easily one of the best shows to ever grace British television. It is because of this blind devotion that I gave the third season four chances before finally admitting to myself that it was an irredeemable waste of time and effort. The worst part is the fact that it isn’t even a glamourised version of teen life. Its so far from life itself that its not even entertaining. I don’t care about the characters at all. Not to mention some of the acting is so horrible, so wooden, you can only imagine the disgusting sexual favours that were negotiated upon casting day. ‘JJ’ seems to have serious trouble portraying even a convincing human being, let alone a ‘multi-faceted’ character.*

Hate that season.

So now I put it to you, Platform readers. What did you think that you were the only person to say/do/believe despite irrefutable evidence to the contrary? Whether you thought you were the only person to pick at your cuticles or like that song or hate that show, I want to hear about it. Together we shall overcome.

*Yes, I ripped myself off. But its true!