IX

I can’t fucking take another second of this, pathetic life. It’s about time that I get all this shit down on paper. To say I’m struggling would be an understatement. Hell, understatement’s my middle name. I haven’t necessarily disappointed everyone around me. But, quite frankly it’s only because there ain’t a lot of people around me. Half of that’s intentional. The other half – who the fuck knows? Perhaps it has something to do with the first half? Anyways, there’s much to be done here.   You see, I’ve got big plans moving forward. I mean hell, moving anywhere would be a fucking step up from where I’m at right now. Most of my life, I’ve dreamed big, wished big, even lived big. But none of that has equaled dick. Not until now. That was all before I had IX in my hands. Well, it’s still in my mind just yet, but you get the fucking picture. Well, at least you will in due time. I’ve failed eight times before now. Shit, who am I kidding? I’ve failed wayyy more times than that. But eight major times since I’ve been keeping track. It ain’t stopped me yet. Just because a stop sign has eight sides, doesn’t mean you’ve gotta stop after you’ve crossed all eight sides and are still standing in the same place. Fuck, even a stop sign itself hasn’t stopped me before. Just look at my record.

I digress. Instead, why not write my future? Right? It sounds all philosophical and shit, but why not? Why not literally write your own future? We all have the power to do so. It’s said the main difference between success and failure is that those who achieve success write down their goals. But why not take that one step further, and literally write out your life? Like a comic book, except its real life. Fuck, what’s real life anyway? Might as well make the most of this physical space in which we live by dotting our own’ i’s and crossing our own t’s. All that bullshit said I introduce to you, IX. As I said, I’ve ignored all signs to stop so far. Signing off. – IX