It’s one month until I turn the big three-oh. I’d like to take a moment to express all of the fears that have gone through me.
I haven’t done anything.
I’m going to die alone with only my cats to mourn me.
I’m going to be forgotten.
I will only get fatter from here.
I will never be prettier.
Closer to death, my own and everyone else that I love. (Fucked up, and true.)
I will never figure out how to change my ways, become a better more awesome person, and become successful.
Finishing writing a screenplay.
Finishing any creative project.
Losing all of my knowledge and memory.
Terrible credit score (just kidding, I could give a shit about this.)
Not having enough money to make my dreams come true.
Not having enough courage to dream big.
Not having enough courage to pursue my dreams.