The Rainy Days and Infinite Sadness

Entry I: My First Attempt at Writing an Autobiography

Entry I: My First Attempt at Writing an Autobiography

I, Brendon Faulkner, have no idea or whatsoever on how to write an autobiography. Not that I am a narcissistic person who considers myself as worthy as Benjamin Franklin. Although,

I would like to share a surprisingly sunny yet depressing fact about me and my life; I have never seen it rain.

And I admittedly have no rational justification for it. I guess, well, unless you would consider Rainy Mood and the iconic heavy rain kissing scene in The Notebook, then yes, maybe I have seen it rain a few times.

Perhaps it’s a sign that my existence is bright, happy, and yellow but in fact, it’s quite the contrary.

This is the part where I would be enlightening you of my tragic backstory and remorseful experiences. Yes, I do have somewhat an inducing sadness of a life such as having a broken family, financial complications, and previously having a diagnosis of a consuming, aggressive form of bone cancer (Unfortunately, I am healed). But other than that, I’m perfectly fine and bright, happy, and yellow.

Yellow, lightest hue of the spectrum and psychologically: uplifting, hope, devotedness, happiness, cheerfulness, and all of the most enthusiastic and optimistic adjectives out there. Solely, it’s also quite the opposite from my perspective. Yellow is ominous, he’s/she’s not as he seems. Yellow’s smart and covertly depressed, hides the fact behind his/hers joyful personas. In reality, Yellow is suffocating.

I don’t know Yellow that well but so far, that’s what I could distinguish from him or her, whatever.

You probably think I’m a crazy person for classifying a colour but someday, you’ll understand because honestly, I don’t know either. Perhaps I’m just bothered by those people who think my favourite colour is Yellow. Oh god, the colour is sickening but I’m assuming that the colour has significance in my life because it appears every so often.

Now that you know that I’m gradually dying each minute, you’re probably thinking that this journal, autobiography, or whatever is going to be filled with interesting things that I have done or things that I have scratched off from my bucket list. And well, you’re mistaken.

I plan on doing nothing.

And no, I am not giving up in life; life is the one giving up on me.

  

Usually, like any other inspiring and brave person, at this very moment, they would live their lives to the fullest. Such as bungee jumping in Ibiza, consuming a boiled duck in Southeast Asia, skydive in Cape Town without a parachute, and some even dream of falling in love. And finally, the ambition that everybody seems to have is to leave a mark in this world which I deem impossible.

I am sorry but I’m no Augustus Waters.

  

I decided to write for my own personal enjoyment. After all, I doubt I would relevant in a few years. You might as well find yourself significant.