Writer’s Notebook: What’s Your Origins Story?

Posted: June 3, 2015 in graffiti living
Tags: , ,

So, fuck it.

I just took anti-anxiety meds.

I know I just set my alarms and the drugs are kicking in and I’ve a better chance of eating shit than getting a good nights sleep and but am now too drugged to care.

Holy shit.

Fuck it.

I had a nice restful day all told and tomorrow I shall get up and out and then the weekend is mine and I will spend it doing stupid shit that I enjoy.

And I enjoy writing, for what it’s worth.

And I enjoy a bunch of other shit too.

And isn’t it fascinating the way that the world outstrips technology in a few years and now only a few months.

Two years is considered the most people keep their phones for because why would you do anything else when the rest is round the corner, the newest latest not-so-greatest model.

Not all change is good.

New doesn’t necessarily mean better.

It means what the fuck.

New just means new.

Fuck these people and fuck this life.

I was born asleep but soon woke up.

Not true — I was born screaming.

And whilst in an incubator for the first few weeks of my life I screamed a lot.

Just to prove I was there.

We spend our whole lives wanting people to notice us or not notice us.

I was a Friday Job, born on a Wednesday.

6 to 8 weeks premature, depending on who you ask.

I nearly died.

Which doesn’t mean I should have died, just that like the runt of the litter I had to make up for lost time.

I’m lucky to be alive and I survived for a reason.

We have to believe shit like that or how else can we go on living?

We’re just here for the ride.

What’s your story?


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