"Pick a card. Any card" Why do I do this? I could've been anything. Tinker, tailor, soldier...well, maybe not a solider, I could never stand the sight of blood. Yes, there we go, put your card back in the deck, deftly avoiding seeing me manipulate the deck in front of your fat, tourist face.

Of course, I know why I do this really. It's because I can't do anything else. Just, why not? Why did I have to insist that I didn't need study anything other than this frivolous nonsense? They say to follow your dreams, but they're completely wrong. Follow your dreams as long as they're not stupid, and let's face it, they probably are. Oh look, your card has jumped to the top, how fantastic

I can still remember telling my parents that I didn't need university, I didn't need college. I had a bag of tricks and was going straight to the top and staying there. Dropping out from my relatively sensible courses and starting on the magic circuit, performing as a warm up act to the up and coming young failures at clubs. I was on my way, quickly storming to the top of the bill, become my very own up and coming young failure. And your card has changed colour, wow!

Somewhere along the line, so did mine. Starting as the blue card of hope and potential, I blinked and the bloody thing was the red of rejection and mediocrity. So here I am, still at the same clubs, night after night, year after year. Other acts come and go, but I'm a constant. I'm the rock in the ever flowing river of show biz. Earning scraps to live off by making your card move around in exciting ways. And speak of the devil, look; it's been in my pocket the whole time. Ha ha ha.

I remember, all those years ago when I still strived to get somewhere with it all. Pointless waste of effort that was. I'd come up with new ideas, new concepts, new tricks every night. And every time it got me nowhere. If there's anything more soul sucking than being average, I don't want to know. And now the card's turned over in the deck, woo-hoo.

Tonight, though, will be my finest act ever. The performance everyone has been waiting for, ever since I started on this godforsaken little circuit. My final disappearing act. The end of my tedious little number, a little more air, food and space to give to someone else. Someone who, undoubtedly will be just as hopeless as me. That's a rule in life. Half the world is above average and happy. Half the world below average, but at least they're interesting. And the forgotten few, the most unhappy of all, are average. Nothing special, perfectly what's expected and of no interest to anyone. Ahh, look, the whole deck is made of the ace of spades. Amazing

Waiting back in my crummy little apartment is a noose, already tied and hung to the ceiling. As soon as I've ploughed through this one last time, I'll go back for my grand finale. The closing of my show, the tightening of the rope. Ah hah, the whole deck's disappeared. And now, it's time for me to as well.