I'm 37 now. Seems like the right time to create some meaningful document of my life so that my last of kin don't butcher the entirety of my existence with their distortions of me as myself. And also, I hardly let anyone get to know me. I wouldn't be surprised if people closest to me read this and feel like they don't know me. So I'll try and do this so that I can be known to them, or let this serve as a self produced witness statement. Type shit.

We're still piecing together just who exactly the hell my mom was. I'm not going down like her. She had no control over her postmortem narrative. So drab.

If I double my lifespan from this day forward I'll die at 74. Seems reasonable.

Can I commit to doing this? Probably not fully.

I don't know what I'll do with this. Maybe complain or talk about a cool tree I saw or vent into the abyss about things I wouldn't bother most people with.

The content is irrelevant, it's just proof of life, mainly to say I lived and felt things, and put words down so nobody can talk about me in my eulogy as anything other than I am.

Join me as I exist through the second half of my life and attempt to exact control over things I shouldn't care about!