knawmean

I miss the time when I didn't give a shit about anything. When all I had to do was drink and try to get laid, and my only ambition was to survive. I gave all that up to be someone who... was someone. Maybe I thought I'd be a writer by now. It's been two and a half years and I'm no closer to being someone than I was when my diet consisted of fish n' chips and Guiness.

I know. It's only been two and a half years. Give it time. Time is the fire in which we burn. My uncle thought he had time. He's gone now. 38 and died of a heart attack. He was a better human being than most of the people I know. Most of the people I'm friends with for that matter.

Maybe I should just go back to the bar. The waitresses are always happy to see me, unlike her. Of course they just know I'm a big tipper. They don't actually give a shit about me one way or the other. Enough! Nobodies going to see thins anyway.