The story of a man's struggle with his life.
Hopelessness, loneliness, stupidity and rage; these 4 words describe my whole life at the moment. I have no hope, few good friends, I drink more than I should and people seem to keep leaving me. My life was average for what felt like forever, perfect for 1 short year, and shit for the last 3. Let’s start from the beginning or, the beginning of the important parts at least. I was a writer and a damn good one at that, I had a wife and a loving daughter and life was good. It all went down hill from there.
My wife left for no good reason, she took my daughter with her, maybe it was my lack of writing, my lack of motivation or my lack of generally giving a fuck.
I suppose she might have had a fair reason to leave, I don’t know what happened to me. I was the man that had it all and now I’m the man that lost it all. It all started with writer’s block, that was all, just one little symptom of a struggling writer, and it spiralled into a dark whirlwind of bullshit and self abuse in the form of intoxication.
So here I am, pushing 40, average height, dark hair and currently lost in life, everything I’ve ever loved is gone and all I’ve got left is this bottle of JD, my pack of smokes and that girl from last night lying next to me that I can’t even remember the name of. That’s the beauty of living in Hollywood. I wish I could take it all back, I wish I’d tried harder, maybe even if I’d just written something, maybe things would be different and I wouldn’t be in this fucking mess now. There’s no changing the past though, I’ve screwed it up and their gone, I just need to get my shit together and try to win them back as impossible as it may seem.
Until then, I’ve got to carry on with my life and that means writing. My agent called me and said that he’d got a job for me, I was sceptical as he’s useless and normally only accepts deals that appeal to him rather than me, but I don’t mind, work’s work and he’s a laugh anyway. So I met him, he said to me “I’ve got a job for ya buddy, I think your gonna love it!” still sceptical I paused and waited for him to elaborate. He’d got me a job writing the script for “brains for breakfast 3”, the latest part in the shittest series of zombie movies to ever be released, of course at first I declined, until he told me how much they were willing to pay me. For that much money I’m determined to turn this movie round, even if the title is still a joke.