Three months ago today, I wrote these words. September 22nd, 2014. This is my intro, my prologue, my hook. This is me.
I got asked to come speak to a class at my former high school today about careers and the future. Apparently, I’ve somehow convinced someone that I have it together, that I’m an authority on postgraduate success. This person doesn’t know that I spent the morning crying over some guy I met on an airplane a few months ago. A guy who I would later discover was fucking my memory away at the same time. This person also doesn’t know that I had a burrito and a beer for breakfast. He or she also has no idea that after I speak of promise and bright futures, I’m probably going to come home and lie face down on the sidewalk outside. We’re all just blowing smoke though. All I have to say is that if I’m some kind of role model for today’s youth, we’re all fucked.
I’ll do it though. I’ll tell them how I spontaneously moved to New York in search of opportunity and the hours I spent working there and committing myself to the trade. I won’t tell them that my BAC was never below 0.08 in the 6 months I lived there, nor that I was carrying out an affair with a pizza chef/drummer.
I’ll tell them that I backpacked all through Europe and how it opened my eyes to a whole new world. I won’t tell them that I lost over $1000 and almost my life on multiple occasions.
I’ll tell them how I boldly moved to Sweden for two years and started an exciting life in a country where I knew no one. I won’t tell them that the most exciting thing the south of Sweden had to offer was 20+ varieties of cheese in a squeeze tube.
If you combine all of the half-truths from my life, the good and the bad, you end up with something that’s just all right and that’s me… I’m just all right.