Yo so today I'm turning 30. Yeah, I'm 30 and still writing stories on the internet about things children are too mature to bother writing about, writing songs about running backwards through bonerfields and I'm more concerned with me me me than you you you.
Where does that leave me?
At the beginning of a long fucking shame spiral, that's where.
My career so far is in sales, and that's only because I have no other redeeming, marketable skills.
My mom would probably disagree, but still.
Worse than not being good at anything, there's not even that much I enjoy.
I mean, I like to say I enjoy biking, working out, shredding the shit out of my guitar, playing drums, doing more pushups and pullups than you, floating down the river getting loaded with a freaking floating cooler lol, writing awesome songs, being the dude everybody thinks is awesome, having a hot awesome wife, living the dream, lighting smokeless cigarettes with hundred dollar bills, stomping fools, keeping racism alive into the 2010's...but I just can't muster up the energy to enjoy anything.
Like, it's one thing to muster up the energy to do something, a hobby, anything. But it's entirely another thing to dig deep and find the inner strength to actually say, "yeah, I enjoy this", and really mean it. Because let's face it, no matter how you pass the time in life, the end is always the same; entropy, death and your body falling apart are all 100% unavoidable.
You may be on your deathbed saying to yourself how awesome your life was? But deep down you don 't really believe it.
Yeah, Johnny Awesome may be telling everybody that he's at peace with death and that he's lived a great life.
But I don't buy it.
Every goddamn person who ever lived is filled with regrets, shoulda's, coulda's, woulda's. Maybe they're all silent and those sentiments are never made audible to anybody but their own nervous, racing, insecure mind, but they're still there - in the back of your head, lurking, hunkering down, not going anywhere.
It's just like a tick - you see it, pull it out and think it's gone, but the head is still embedded in your body.
At some point our batteries die, and the last thought you're going to be left with is that you should have done this or maybe you should have done that. Your entire life was you working towards that penultimate moment when you can look back at your life and have no regrets.
And then die at peace with yourself.
The real rub is that remember when you splurged and bought that awesome sports car, or traveled around South America for a year, or lived your life doing selfless things to help others, each time you said to yourself that if you don't do it, you'll always regret it.
Well, as you lay there with your last breaths being stolen away, your mind is populating its thoughts with even more things that you wish you would have done, and all the things you never did. And worse, because your desperation is causing your taxed body to overexert itself, these bitter thoughts are coming at you in bits and pieces, in slow motion.
Quite an unsavory feeling, eh?
See you at the bar later as we're all trying to wash the foul taste of life out of our mouths.