I turned 40 last October. To some of you that makes me pretty fuckin old, to some, pretty fuckin young. I didn't tell anyone or celebrate, because I felt it. I considered 40 to be old as shit. My backs fucked, my leg still hurts from my accident last year, I can't party like I used to... As the months pass by I'm getting settled into a different life in a new town with some old friends and some new ones, writing off other so called friends, and embracing it all. I'm privileged to live in a time and place where I can be creative and make a living that way. There are no civil wars or widespread famine, no pestilence or plagues. It's easy to get wrapped up in the day to day bullshit and forget how good we all have it. On my most stressful days I'm trying to give myself at least five minutes to goof off even if it seems impossible. It makes it all easier. The hardest part for me is not feeling guilty or letting other people make me feel guilty about it. Blaze your own trails and fuck everyone who isn't there for you at the finish line. I've only got one time around this rock and I wanna make it count.