Alan Moore wrote that when writing about yourself you should start with the saddest thing you can think of and then take it from there. Idea being that after reading this the reader will travel with you anyway, whether it's out of pity or empathy or just because for some reason as human beings we find a morbid curiosity out of others' misery. Whatever it is I'm afraid I can't deliver, I've wracked my brains trying to think of the saddest, most terrible thing that has happened in my life and nothing seems to really measure up. I mean, I've had bad things happen, some tragic, some unfortunate, some times I had it coming. If we're going to gauge it on things that have made me cry then I can tell you about when my pet Axolotl died. I was camping down South with friends and I got a call form my father, telling me Stubby had passed. He was called Stubby on account that he had a misshapen leg, we had two of the ugly things, the other was named Bluey on account of it being an albino with bright red gills. I guess I had a bit of a soft spot for Stubby as he was the runt and we runts have to stay together. Still to this day I believe Bluey murdered Stubby, I never much liked Bluey, who never did die, we had to give the robust Mexican walking fish away in the end because the entire family were tired of taking care of what was frankly an ugly frog/fish creature who never said thank you or please. After the phone conversation which was just before bedtime, I lay in my sleeping bag and cried. It doesn't seem that much of a big deal now, but back then, it seemed like the right thing to do. Shedding a few tears for Stubby, I'm sure he appreciated it.
Am I getting some hardcore empathy from you yet? Can you spare a glass of pity or two? No? There has of course been greater tragedies in my life, but once again, nothing that hasn't been witnessed or experienced by your average person. There are a few things that have made me sadder than Stubby's passing/clandestine murder. I was sad I never got to know my Grandfathers, I was sad that I never got to go to either of my Grandmother's funerals, I was sad when a boy I worked with was killed in Bali. But we harden up, we get over it, learn to deal with it, the best we can do is hold these things in the backs of our minds, bringing them out from time to time to remember and learn.
I guess the point that I'm getting is that I have little to complain about in the grand scheme of things which is why this blog is not going to be a woe is me tale. This blog is going to be a journey through the things that I have done wrong and make no mistake I have made alot of mistakes, even for a twenty four year old and I'm only going to make more. I wouldn't have it any other way either, for through these mistakes I have learnt much, some would argue it's the only way I learn. But at least I learn. Some would argue that my previous statement is wrong, that I don't learn from my mistakes at all and to those people I say a polite fuck you. Seriously though, a deep, consonant filled fuck you, pausing slightly on the ef and ck for dramatic effect.
I'm going to try and post every week, which is more than I can say about my other fictional blog, which at the moment has been put on hiatus due to multiple shows that have been taking all my brain juices. I hope this is going to be a good venture. I hope you're going to enjoy it. I hope it will be funny or sad or whatever the fuck it is the young people of today are doing. On Sunday I'm going to be off to Melbourne for the International Comedy Festival. I'm positive that my month in festival town will be rife with mistakes, maybe I'll even post more than every week, maybe.
