Looking back on it now I realize that my birth was quite extraordinary. It was almost as if I knew what my mother would do for me in the years to come, so I crawled out as quickly as I could to save her the pain of a long labor. It was an arduous journey but I made it. It would later be found that I was in fact one of the fastest births ever recorded. That title is still held by a chap named Yusain Bolt.
In my struggle to get out of the uterus I strained my body beyond what it was meant to be capable of. I spent many months in the hospital undergoing physical therapy before I was able to continue with my life, or start it rather. During this trying time Marianne, a truly adorable nurse helped me keep fighting. So many times I was ready to give up but she cooed me to keep going. I became quite taken with her. She was my first love. I know that many say that such romantic attachments do not happen at that age due to the lack of hormones, but my love for her was not a choice, it was who I was, and I would never choose not to believe in it.
During these months I would do far more than simply find myself in love. It is also the time where I first met my nemesis. Yes my Nemesis. The now surely infamous Zachariah Hardwick. He was born about three months after I was. By then I was far better and had been moved out of ICU and back with the rest of the children in the maternity ward. And there lay Zachariah. I knew in an instant that he would be trouble. It’s easier you see for children to pick up on these things. After all that’s when we are not besieged yet with so many prejudices and quick conclusions. I was astounded by the depravity he would be capable of. It was on that day that I swore to keep that one from destroying the lives we hold so dear.
My time in the hospital was drawing to a close. I would have to say goodbye to my love Marianne. I wanted to ask her for her hand but I was not blessed yet with the social aptitude I now possess, and was only able to burble incoherently. Thankfully no one seemed to notice that that was not my intent. Perhaps it is best that I did not marry sweet Marianne. It is likely that our age difference would have been an insuperable barrier. But thankfully our paths would meet again.
Ch 1.2 Cops and Robbers
My Life as it Should Have Been
A wishful autobiography by:
At twenty one years of age most would say that I am not qualified to write an autobiography. This is because I am neither one of great note, nor am I one of some great untold deed. Many would say that I simply haven’t done shit. Those who believe these things are not wrong. In fact empirical evidence would suggest that they are right. To these accusations I respond with a question: what is it that makes a man? To this question I provide an answer: a pair of testicles. With this in mind I pose another question: what gives a person meaning, definition, and purpose?
Many would say that it is defined by the choices one makes. They say that definition is imposed by the actions one takes. A doctor is a doctor if they go to medical school. They are a good doctor if they pass medical school. An actor is an actor if they debase themselves onstage for the pleasure of others. They are a good actor if they do so on screen for all others. Yet it is unclear how it is that one arrives at the ability to make these decisions. We have many people who are defined by helping others become defined. How do we do this? How do we choose our definition? We are told that we must be true to ourselves and fulfill our purpose, but if we lack a definition, a meaning, a purpose, how then are we supposed to be true to it? This would suggest that we have had a definition before this. We have in fact been making choices our entire lives. From the moment we are born. To make these choices we must have some form of identity imparted from the moment of birth.
In light of this development I posit that who we are, our very being and therefore our noteworthiness, lies not in the choices we have made, but rather in the choices we might have made. It is with this understanding that I have undertaken the journey of writing this autobiography. The true nature of who I am has been obscured. I seek to correct this. So please read on knowing that this is who I truly am. I hope you enjoy My Life As It Should Have Been.
I love how so many people forget that there are other people who use the internet and that the people with power over your job and whether or not you keep it do in fact count as people.
Now for the other things. For anyone who is new to this blog it's going to be a mixture of political and personal posts. By personal I don't mean that I'll be using it to tell you how crappy my life is. No I'm going to be posting some of my fiction writing such as the (hopefully) ongoing posts of 'My Life as it Should Have Been' (a fictional auto biography of my life). I won't be posting emo poetry written in Jr High. I've destroyed my few forays into that genre. I may do some poetry though if I feel like it.
For those of you joining me from either Facebook or Livejournal you read that right. I am in fact adding political posts to my new blog. I hope to have them mesh well with the things I write and my usual writings.
All that said I look to have 'My Life as it Should Have Been' up soon. The first post of it may actually be done today. Look for my first political blog around Tuesday.
I write this in a most intriguing mood. I’m raising my hands in surrender. (I use surrender here for lack of a better term.) I do not believe that I shall make the 50k wordcount deadline for November this year. I know what many of you will say. But it’s not over yet. You still have time. I’ve heard of people getting 80k in a night! And Don’t give up! (NOTE: while writing this my tweet about my resignation on Twitter has already elicited responses that I have just mentioned.)
I am currently at 16,964 words. I have roughly 40 hours to complete a little over 33,000 words. While it is not the requisite 50,000 the OLL wants it is far more than I have ever done before now. Normally if I were just going about my usual day like when I started this trek I would have been quite displeased with myself for slacking off so much and just getting in my own way (Which admittedly there was some of that) I do not hate myself for anything of the sort. The reason my writing stopped so sharply is because I just got a job. I now work at Wal Mart. Thus I cannot get mad at myself for slacking off, after all you can ask anyone on the night shift and they’ll tell you it’s impossible to keep from working without getting fired. My paycheck also lets me know that it isn’t all for naught.
I do in fact hold my head up high as I write this (Not literally, I tend to look at the keyboard as I type and typing at eye level would be inconvenient at best) for I have done so much more this November than any November before. In fact I don’t believe that I have ever broken the 5k barrier in NaNoWriMo before. This means that I have already achieved 3 times my best NaNo Wordcount. Also, I do not believe that there is a single work of mine regardless of how long I’ve been working on it or what I was writing that has ever neared the almost 17k words upon which I now sit (Also I don’t intend to stop writing it just because I won’t make the 50k deadline) . I will not feel ashamed of that. I shall in fact hold it in front of myself as proof that I can indeed do better than I have been doing. And I shall do better. Not just next year, but this December as I begin my installments of My Life as it Should Have Been.
I hope you will join me as I go through my theoretical life. It shall be filled with action and romance and anything and everything else you can think, and comedy. Oh the comedy. Thank you for reading. I will likely not post again until I have begun My Life as it Should Have Been in December. Until then: