My life in a badly phrased, ill spelt and poorly punctuated nutshell

Why do I spend hours of each day thinking of ways to be like everyone else? Thinking that I should do as everyone else does to succeed in the way they do? I know its arrogant to believe but I’m not like everyone else, I never have been, my entire upbringing has been different. Raised at a garage by a roundabout with no one but the tenants of the semi-detached house next door and I see more of them now they don’t live there than I ever did before. I can’t cycle, I live about 2 miles from anything interesting and the love of my life is double that away, yet it still took me 2 years to pass my driving test, although I didn’t spend most of that doing test, it only took me two, but I’m such a layabout that I didn’t get it organised. Thousands of pounds both me and my parents spent on this, and only yesterday I wrote my car off, only had it about a year, some old guy pulled out in front of me on a main road and there we go, whammy, as they say in Anchorman. I’m now looking for a new car but my father seems unilaterally adverse to me getting anything from anyone but his friends, who don’t have anything at the moment. I need a car, it’s a primal lust I tell you, the desperate desire to get away from my putrid mother is never ending. Still, her holidays are nearly over so it wont be too long until I have the day to myself.

Apart from writing off my car and failing to be like everyone else, I also managed to not get into university, my one desire in life for the entire length of it. I am, at heart a schemer, and although I do enjoy spontaneity, I always have to plan the event, so that when I am spontaneous, I have still controlled all the factors running up to it. Tangent concluded, what I am saying is that my plan concluded with university, and that I don’t have any other plan, I was going to university and that was it, as far as reality, fate and any other deity was concerned. Except that fate didn’t enjoy being predictable it seems, and my current crises is the resulting consequences. At the risk once again of sounding arrogant, I’m intelligent enough to go to university, just not skilled enough in arse kissery, essay perfection and mindlessness to get there. According to a trusted source, I think like and adult, not a child, and that is what is holding me back. Ironic isn’t it, being adult keeps me with the children; still, I suppose someone will have to look after them.

So basically, I have no dream left, no car, and a badly hurt Mrs, I know the last bit is nothing too special but I like 3s, they roll off the tongue nicely and make examiners swoon. I have nothing now except time, which, for one year at least, I intend to kill with a sharp and pointed stick, how it could be sharp and not pointed is beyond me, although it could be a blade, blades don’t have to be pointed… My god that was a boring tangent, moving on, that’s it really.

Peace.