twenty-something

With my 29th birthday only a few weeks away. I’m having trouble figuring out the kind of life I want for myself. I keep thinking about turning 30 and I’m disappointed.

Stop comparing yourself to your friends because it’s a huge waste of time and they don’t give a shit about how much money you make.

I believed in myself like I would an underdog boxer, and my determination was stronger after defeat.

He looked at me like a patronizing cow and remarked, “Fine art is for serious artists.”

Long story short, I gave up a dream only to discover another dream was hiding behind it.

I look at my phone and excuse myself to grab a slice of Hawaiian pizza before a gang of foodie thugs with ten-pound cameras and selfie sticks roll up.