Going Nowhere

Help yourself, self-help books, psychiatrists, therapists, teachers, whatever. They all talk crap. “You could go somewhere.” I’m going somewhere. It’s called Nowhere, and I find it quite interesting, thank-you-very-much. No, I don’t need to bring my Biology up to scratch, because Nowhere doesn’t need an A or a B or a C or even a bloody pass grade in any goddamn subject, and to be honest, I couldn’t care less what you think.

How many times do you have to hear, no I don’t have any A-level choices, because I’m dropping out of school. Yes, that’s right, dropping out. Leaving. Getting a job in some dead-end place so I can continue in my goal of doing Nothing, going Nowhere, being Nobody.

And I don’t need your words and your encouragement because I’m happy with oblivion and I’m happy with Nothing and No one and Nowhere. Not everyone can be a high-flying lawyer, or author, or business CEO, sir, and I’m happy the way things are.