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A quick history that explains most of it, hopefully without being too boring.

I was born, I gurgled, mum gave me a crayon, I started drawing.

I went to school, the teachers said "Stop drawing! Do as you're told!"

I kept on drawing, secretly, but I still won the paper aeroplane and model car contests.

I went to high school, the teachers said "Do as you're told! Call us Sir! If you don't do exactly what we tell you, you'll end up working 5am shifts in a factory for the rest of your life!"

I said, "Bollocks." I still got 7As and 2 Bs.

Then I went to 6th form, met my friends, got an A in art and a C in German without turning up to half the exams. 6th form was quite good, I suppose.

After that I went to three different art colleges, never met a single real artist in any of them, and took up a career as a full-time depressive alcoholic. They were right: disobedience leads to ruin.

I still think I was right and they were wrong, but that's not the question these days - it's purely practical.

These days, I merely dream that I still have the potential to do something good in my life - in reality, I take another drag at a rolly, another swig of Special Brew, and thank god for the wealth of my father