the story of me, not about me

Inspiration is a fickle mistress. Why a mistress and not a master? Think about it for a second. Fickle. The adjective of this particular statement. The describing word. Just think for a moment what it means. Several synonyms of this word come to mind immediately. Inconsistent, changeable, indecisive. Words that classically, but more potently, stereotypically have been used to describe women. Inspiration comes as it pleases, treats you how it wants to and then buggers off again.
Inconsistent is probably the best of them to describe my inspiration. Sometimes you got it, sometimes you don't. And most of the time, I don't got it. I tried carrying a note pad around with me just in case. But that just lead to me getting frustrated when I forgot my pen. I tried sitting down and forcing myself to think of things. But that just gave me a headache. In the end I gave up and started writing the first thing that came into my head. That's how this started really. How am I doing so far?
I really had no idea, when I started; just what I was going to start writing about and now I have even less of an idea. I could start by telling you who I am. I'm a struggling human being who struggles daily to get out of bed and go to a boring job in a boring building surrounded by boring people. In fact I could be anyone you have ever met. I have my interests; they mainly revolve around entertainment; music, films, drinking and sex. This could narrow me down to around half of the population of the world. The fact that I'm writing in English will narrow it down a little bit further to about an eighth of the worlds' population. I'll stop with all this rather annoying narrowing down now.
I live and work in England's Second City, Birmingham. I can't say that this story is about me because I have had a good life. Nothing particularly bad has happened to me so far, I am still only young although my grey hair begs to differ. I grew up in a council house with my mum and three sisters; Dad left when we were young. I was lucky and got a place at private school where I stayed for 7 years. Got a decent amount of GCSE's and went to college. I spent too much time there having fun and spent a year too long there. After being at college for 3 years I went to university where I spent another 3 years doing a 2 year course. Oops. At college I'd met a girl through a mutual friend and we started seeing each other. We ended up being together for four and a half years and got engaged. Unfortunately that wasn't to be and we split up. So just to clarify, this story is NOT about me. My life hasn't been anywhere as near as interesting as this. Sure I've had my moments but haven't we all.

The End

0 comments about this story Feed