And now, a morning reflect sesh.

We get a pass as teenagers.

In my 20’s, I was a soldier and a tech guy.

In my 30’s, I was a paranormal investigator, worked in law enforcement, and began my writing career.

In my 40’s, I perfected the science known as alcoholism, traveled the country extensively for the art industry, did the UK thing, did the journalism thing, trashed my writing career, alienated everything and everyone I’d ever known, and changed my name.

I’m 51. Being brutally honest about myself, like you know I love to do, I’m a reincarnated middle-aged hippie family man artist guy who sees that other person as another individual entirely. No more deadlines, I learned guitar, and I view the world around me as a ghost who won’t be seen. I am a retired no one who complains about stuff on the internet, reviews movies, and pens spooky novellas. The unofficial, yet educated diagnosis is that I’m still 16, mentally. Cool beans. I was hot AF in 1989.

Who wouldn’t want to hear this song for the first time every time until the end of time?

I’m smiling now, I’m  self-aware, but I’m tired. When it comes time for the exit survey, I’m ticking the box would not recommend. Preach truths, toke jokes, and shoplift Amazon. I’m sure some psych people are biting their lips right now, and I gave the abridged version. It’s cute. I’ll find the middle-ground between Hunter Thompson and Bilbo Baggins. Someday.

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