I feel like I’m done with life, even though it’s not yet done with me. No, I’m not talking about ending things early. I’m talking about the will to live. These are two very different things.
Sometimes I love life, especially when I’m getting high. Right now, I’m not getting high. I’m not really living either. I’m half way through my life, and in a very important way, I haven’t yet grown up.
I want to get to the point where I never lie, not to myself or anyone else. I want to live a truly free life, let everything lay. I want to play with an open hand.
I’m just going to be me from now on because I don’t feel like I’m almost there. I want the last forty years to be the best forty years. Otherwise, I just keep doing what I’m doing, convince myself it’s close enough and say goodbye to the people I love at the end, hoping that they think more of me than I think of myself.