The exception that proves the rule. A blog of short writings from Australia and England.
Thursday, 30 July 2015
I Wish I Could Sing A Different Song
I could never be a writer. I've no eye for detail. I walk through graveyards and all I see is death. I'm oblivious to all the life right above my head. I probably couldn't name the tree sheltering me or the birds serenading me. Education was a waste on me. All it taught me was that pain follows you around every day.