Thirty Years: Thirty | The Boy Who Could But Didn't

Thirty Years: Thirty

“Who are you?”

I’m driving down the Pacific coastal road to LA with my fiancé and two of the most selfless and loyal friends I’ve ever had. If life is a journey, I feel I was always heading this way. I’m picking up things I loved from my childhood and making them work. Once I get home, I’m going to work hard to get back into university to follow a new career. I’m not going to try to be a writer anymore. That isn’t a job or an occupation I can aspire to do. That’s just something I’ve always been.

5 Responses to “Thirty Years: Thirty”

  1. Mark says:

    Excellent series of blog posts. Thanks for sharing a wee bit more of your life with us.

    BTW, “with my fiancé”. Congrats! When did that happen? I don’t think you mentioned it when I was down a couple of months ago – or is my memory being crap as usual?

  2. Ben says:

    Thanks mister. It happened on the last day of my twenties in San Francisco. I don’t think I mentioned it either. I might have done, my memory’s not what it once was either. WHO ARE YOU? etc

  3. isabelle says:

    I really liked all these too, very much.
    And you’re right, you don’t need to try and be a writer, that’s exactly what you are.
    ( and one with a lovely smile too, it made me smile right back )

  4. Rob Inukshuk says:

    I was last here at “16″ and have just enjoyed catching up. I too have enjoyed this series and like the idea, though I’m old enough now not to recall much about many of the years experiences that have lead me to where I find myself.
    Congrats on the “fiance” thing.

  5. DT Kelly says:

    I read your essay on Helium about why you write. I actually found it by googling “writing is a waste of time.” I didn’t quit my job to write, like you did, I was instead handed the time on a platter by being laid off. 5 months later I am proud to say I have even more unfinished projects than when I was working, hence tonight’s googling. It seemed to make as much sense to do as writing. But thank you for your essay and thank you for these blog posts. I think I’ve been on the verge of a fugue once or twice myself while on a street corner. Isn’t that what one’s 20s are anyway? One long fugue? I’m glad you’re happy. It seems that a writer only stops trying to be a writer when a) he starts writing or b) he stops writing. From now on, when asked what I do, I’ve decided to say “I’m unemployed but I’ve been writing”. Cheers.