Under/Over
Sometimes I think about the randomness of my life and my odd creativity. My harshness and tendency towards a good nature. My work ethic and decency even though I have made that an uneven road from drinking, and drugging and smoking and fighting. But then again I am a literal bastard of an Irishman so how was that to be avoided? I don’t know. Now that I am 41 I am sick of thinking about it to be honest. I wasn’t an abortion. Came mad close to being one though. So now I face a situation where deciding wether some other soul will be one. I don’t know what Im going to look like in my 50′s, or 60′s if I even make to to see them. But the way this world is and given my age I truly don’t think adding one more screaming baby to this autistic, learning disabled, english as a second language, weak, effected and unimpressive future of this nation. I didn’t even live up to my own dreams. Why spin a wheel thinking something I made, that couldn’t be saved as a file or a dusty manuscript would? Only a bastard could think like that. So why make another to think like me?
