in utter isolation

If it weren't for my indie rock, my literary books, and my pretentious writing, i would have nothing to remind me of my unrecognized genius. This bothers me. Back in New York I would have many chances for arrogant remarks and clever quips, but here, in my utter isolation, i do not have as many opportunities. Yes, you argue, i may have a few acquaintances that i correspond with on occasion, but they are all unresponsive to my arsenal of euphuism. (i must admit i used the dictionary.com thesaurus for that one, but it seemed too perfect.) In Tokushima, i am merely a plebian, an oddball with eccentricities at best. Simply disappointing. No one acknowledges my sagacity (dictionary.com).
I hiked up Bizan, the local large hill/small mountain for the second time today, and walked down along the road. It was quite nice, especially because the weather was dank and a chilly, and the sun was setting as i began my trek downward. No, i'm not being sarcastic for once, i actually enjoyed the chilly weather. I ate an apple at the top, but threw away the fungus-filled core. I bought these four apples at the supermarket next door and found most of them to be infested with grey-blue puffy fungus in their centers. The rest of the apple is good, but the inside is not. Well, i wouldn't really know because i didn't lick the fungus. And similarly, i did not participate in the local fungus-licking ceremony held three days after New Year's Day in Tokushima.
Since things are especially uneventful, and i don't feel like inventing some crap that i did to entertain you, the entry shall end here. In other words, you should be entertained just fine from the preceding.