This is possibly my longest post, ever. So if you aren’t turned away yet, grab a coffee or a tea or something.
If I were to write a chapter in an autobiography, it would probably look similar to this. It’s somewhat personal, so much so that I’m revealing things about my past that most of my family aren’t even aware of.
I didn’t intend for this to be so close to the chest, but I probably would have had to have gone out of my way to contrive it otherwise. I’m being candid for an ends, not so that people can engage in voyeurism. I’m really quite a private person by nature.
My point isn’t to write about myself, I simply serve as an example and I hope my experiences resonate. I doubt my experiences are entirely similar to what most people have had, but in the essential detail, I think, or rather I hope, there will be commonality.
The following narrative is quite real, and involves real people. That being said, out of charity, the names of a couple of people haven’t been mentioned. Those that would be shamed the most are the ones that I’m protecting, including a minor football celebrity I had a run-in with and a guy I knew as a kid who was later charged with murder.
Others who brazenly flaunt their stupidity in public remain named, although they aren’t really a part of the autobiographical side of things. Others still are named, who are out there in the public arena, who have had some influence on this tale, but who’s mention should cause them no harm.
I do use strong language in parts, feeling that if this was to be unavoidably personal, I should remain true to my own language (swearing will be tolerated in the comments thread of this post, if not abusive). I discuss unpleasant topics, including violence but there isn’t any gore depicted. The really visceral details, not that there are that many in this case, just don’t help me the message get across.
Read on over the fold for ‘Machiavellianism, slave morality and Australian Rules Football‘.