Ten-thousand, nine-hundred, fifty.
I keep telling myself I’ll spend a few minutes here working on my blog today — I keep putting it off. I must be expecting something profound or enlightening to spill out from my hands out onto the screen; nothing doing.
Today, I’m thirty years old. My twenties are over. My twenties are over and I’m damn near certain that the damage I’ve done to my long-term memory is what’s keeping me from spending the day lost in regret at having wasted some of my best years struggling and learning how to become the person that I am today. I do, however, find much comfort in my optimisim for what the future has in store and also in the experience that I’ve gained by taking the path that I have. If I only would’ve spent the first part of my life directing as much energy into making money as I did in shooting it up into my arm…
Read More Ten-thousand, nine-hundred, fifty.