Jumping, Falling and Tripping Over

I was Mr Popular, the Golden Boy. Had it all. When you are in that position, there is a desire to self-sabotage. Maybe it was the thought of being free from expectation and admiration. Or it could just have been that inbuilt instinct to throw oneself from high places. So, no, I didn’t fall off my pedestal and I wasn’t pushed; I jumped. To be honest I was having trouble breathing up there.

I’d like to clarify a few more things. I’m not all bad. And the other guy, he’s not all good, he is habitually passive and uncaring. He sees people as lab rats; his grand social experiment. I make an effort to connect to people, I empathise, sympathise, I have one-to-one relationships.

Him and me, we are still friends, sort of. He acknowledges he needs me. We occasionally meet for beer, chess and challenging philosophical conversation. We disagree about a lot but, for the record, whatever anyone tells you, apples are good for you. Ignorance may be bliss but learning and knowledge are incredibly important. Eating apples is not a sin.

Also, I want you to know I like it here. We’re certainly not in hell. You can argue about cruelty, selfishness and disease; Putin, Brexit and Trump. But there is also love, music and beautiful sunsets. And friendship. I have a lot of friends. I’ve been a friend to everyone reading this at some point. I’m always there for you. You don’t trip, you jump.