If you asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, when I was three, I'd have told you a rabbit. If you take away the fact that the philosophy on which I was brought up is that animals are for eating and wearing, I still think it sounds like a very viable career choice. I wanted to share my bedroom with African children because they were so skinny they wouldn't take up much room, and I didn't understand why we didn't all do that, then we could share the food I wasn't very interested in, and they wouldn't have so little. I think that sounds pretty sound politically still, too. I once swore to my mum, after she caught me eating jam from the jar, that when I was a grown up- or a rabbit. Either- I'd eat a jar of jam for tea, and I've done that a few times in honour of my younger years.
When I was three, before everything went wrong, I was a damn sight more, I don't know, sorted, than I am now. I know it's quite common to be nostalgic for your childhood, but it's not that that I'm nostalgic about- the majority of it was a complete and utter fucking mess and you couldn't pay me enough to go back- but more the feeling of certainty over who I was, who I was going to be and what I was going to do. Although I was precocious, I wasn't all that confident, but I still possessed a certainty in myself that I haven't had for years.
Like I say, my childhood then ended up a mess. I was forced into fluffy tail-free adulthood and then, of course, I ended up here, torn away from the coral reef and put into a sterile fish tank. My childhood ended at a point only just before my furthest memory, and my self-certainty was gradually eroded, along with what self-respect I had at 3. I didn't grow up in the traditional sense, in fact it often feels like I regressed, instead. Sure, I can be pretty self-sufficient. I pay bills, I can write a complaint letter and I can almost shave my legs without cutting them (accidentally, mind), to ribbons. But tell me to do something outrageous and irresponsible, and I'll do it. I've done things and put myself in such dangerous situations that I could make your hair curl. Tell me to do something sensible and socially acceptable, and chances are I'll tell you to fuck off. I'm reckless and feckless and take too many pictures of my bare chest.
I just want to know what to do, where to go and even who or what I want to be. I want to lose weight. I don't want to lose weight. I want to die. I want to change the world. I want to save you, but I'd really rather you didn't save me. I'm eternally confused and completely lost. I'm isolating myself from pretty much everyone at the moment because if I don't know who to be, who do I present? Every day I get into character, but I'm running low on stage presence right now.