Introduction

An introduction to: The Life of an Unperson

What you read, if you choose to continue, is my life. A sweeping statement and probably not the most accurate one. Let me say rather that it is a collection of snippets from my life; some high points but more the low points. Is it complete? No after all I still breathe and wake each morning; there will, unfortunately, be more! Whether that reaches your eyes will depend in no small part to your participation in ‘my life’.
So now you’re probably asking something like; ‘But who are you anyway?’
A valid question; I’m not famous and in all probability will never be so (thankfully). To your next question ‘why write an autobiography then?’ and the next ‘Who’d want to read it?’ Well if you’ve gotten this far then perhaps the answer to the latter is… You. The former is more difficult to answer and any attempt to do so may negate the last answer.
There is nothing ‘special’ about me; in my 39 years of life I have no remarkable achievements to my credit – I haven’t invented anything or won any awards I’m not a brave soldier with heroic deeds to tell. I’m not a dissident or guru. What I am and always have been by nature is an observer.
I have watched and listened to the world as I moved through it in a detached manner that most people don’t bother with or can’t manage. You see what I am is an outsider doomed by perhaps genetics or simply my nature to always be apart from what is laughingly called life. This of course made (as you will see if you read on) for a difficult childhood until I realised the insights afforded me into the lives of my fellow life travellers. These snippets are then in part my experiences, part my observations of the world I have lived in but also my estimations of others that have occasionally or more permanently crossed my orbit.
To be clear what follows are opinions and not judgements; I will not offer unquestionable proof even should it exist. What you read, if you choose to continue should be taken with a large pinch of salt. That is not to say that it is fiction; it isn’t. It is my life; my pain, my happiness, my sorrow and regret. It is what I have seen, what I have felt. It is the best of me and the worst of me and it is the best of you and the worst.
Some of it (most perhaps) is based on my instinct and intuition spawned by an unenviable position in the world. And in these snippets I will pull no punches, You will see the yourselves as I see you; I will highlight both my own and your flaws for I can see beyond that precious mask you don for the sake of others and of course your own conscience; that disguise you pull on each morning because it’s easier to pretend to be something than it is to actually become it; the façade that has become so second nature to you that you have come to believe it is your true self. You see I have been cursed with Burns’ ‘gift’ to see myself as others see me but more, and sometimes to my detriment, to see the real you. To be sure this will offend some but it is important for you to realise that there is no malice in these pages and though, as you will discover, I have been given much opportunity to hate I take pride in the fact that I have never done so.
Nor will I make any apologies; these are my opinions and in the greater scheme of the world may be fatuous, pretentious or down right wrong and when you have turned the last page will probably be quickly forgotten. If nothing else the following will kill the time between stops on your commute or help drown out that annoying TV program. There are no hidden messages in these pages but perhaps they may make you look beyond the mask that greets you each morning in the mirror and see yourself and others from a different point of view; one that I am sure very few of you could ever truly, or perhaps even want, to imagine – the view of an outsider condemned always to look in but never permitted entry.
Curious?
Then read on if you will.