It’s a strange expanse of introspection, but I get bummed sometimes that I haven’t killed myself yet, like it’s just another unrealised dream. Problem is, I was born with the ambition of a much more talented person, somewhere out there is a should be physicist blissfully calculating tax returns and enjoying my ignorance. I feel indentured to an amorphous personal dissatisfaction, a sense that whatever I accomplish will never be as good as I know it could be were I not me. Not that I want to be someone else, just that I’m not the me I never am.
Nic Addenbrooke is a freelance writer, editor, content creator, radio broadcaster, part-time poet and sometimes artist. Nic has been coming to terms with existence for years. He currently lives and works in Brisbane where he struggles to turn the cacophony of voices in his head into things of substance. It doesn’t always work but occasionally produces a nice veneer of sanity.