As you get older, you get more lonely.

There’s no way around it. Maybe this is sad, but it’s just the truth. Going to bed without a warm body next to you is a haunting experience for a soft heart. The only thing worse is a dead body, which can happen in one of two ways—literally or figuratively. I’m still trying to figure out which is worse.

When I look at people younger than me, I see myself, but a version that existed two mind states ago. I can’t pinpoint when the shift occurred, exactly, but…

Today I woke up to an ache in my right shoulder. Time for another cortisone shot? Maybe, but I got too distracted by the ache in my hip. Right one, too. All those years of skating? Possibly. No more ache in my right knee, though. I stopped running to stymie that. What’s up with my right side?

Sometimes when I chew, I hear my jaw click. Never heard that before, and it’s happening more and more. Google assured me nothing is wrong. At least my breath is good (I think). But my eyesight is getting a little worse each year, -4.00 now. Maybe it’s all the squinting that’s creating these wrinkles. Damn mirror…

Just when you think you’ve got it all figured out, life squeezes lemon juice in your eye. Blind to what’s ahead, you stumble and fall, hit your knee on the edge of a coffee table, and bump right into life’s next challenge. What the heck just happened? It’s an instant reminder that you maybe didn’t have your suitcase packed and you probably weren’t ready for the trip after all. Don’t worry about it, though. You’re better off walking blindly, stumbling, bumping, and falling. Perfection is for phonies.

Sometimes, people suggest I’m too cryptic. I tell them there’s an easy solution for that…

Everyone is looking for an excuse to not bleed. Not do it, not say it, not write it. It’s easier that way, they think. But is it? Is it really?

People don’t like being vulnerable, but who likes to expose a wound? Worse, having life pour alcohol all over it? Nobody. Find me the person who says, “I do,” and I’ll show you a liar. It’s just not logical. Yet without the alcohol, without the burn, you risk infection. Is that what you want?

Something that courses through your blood, turning everything from red to black…

I love Pepe’s pizza.

The problem isn’t that I love Pepe’s pizza. It’s that I know Pepe’s pizza is possible.

There are two kinds of possibilities: one we can imagine, and one we know is real. The former is something we’ve seen or heard about. The latter is something we’ve had firsthand experience with. I’ll admit, deciphering between the two is more and more difficult with social media, streaming, and the introduction of more imagined possibilities…

Everyone does something for the first time.

The relationship. The business. The creative venture. The single wants to commit. The employee wants to start a business. The attorney wants to be a comedian. Will they succeed or fail? I don’t know. What are the metrics, anyway? Are they your metrics, their metrics, or metrics made up by someone else at some random point in history?

In any case, the best way to guess what someone will do next is…