Friday, 4 January 2013

The story of my life

I decided to write my life story, not because it is particularly interesting but because I thought I could squeeze the odd joke in. It turned out to be a bit of a roller coaster so far, emotionally for me, it's forcing me to try and think how I felt as a 5 years old and come to terms with them, having done that putting it in writing only makes the emotions stronger, I'm not sure I could cope with publishing it, not because there is anything particularly sordid or unpleasant just because it would be me out there.
I can see what attracts lazy adrenaline junkies to bare their soul in writing or on the TV but I don't have the Ego of Russell Brand or a life so interesting it would make a fascinating read. The story of someone suffering from depression is never going to be a bundle of laughs, I can't imagine wanting to read about anyone else's life, and have never read a serious biography, to be honest I just don't care that much about how crap or brilliant life was, just because they achieved some kind of fame. What Newton got up to in his spare time is far less interesting to me that what he succeeded in doing in his day job.
The minutia of their idiosyncrasy is only of interest when sieved down and spat out QI style. I want the Big Mac, the fast food of biogs. My life seems like bits of stewed mutton and the bits which are funny I'm the butt of the joke.
Though I do feel compelled to write it, it feels a personal journey, though I have a feeling that once written I will want comments on it and opinions. Perhaps I should just give up now before ego demands comments.

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