I know it’s a at best a useless mindset, as nothing will make me somehow magically get a new chance at those years. But it’s still a strong feeling and it’s still there.
I’m doing my best to push through it, I’m out there talking to people, but there’s usually a point where we are sharing personal anecdotes and I just feel my stomach tightening, as I barely have any of those. I have no experiences which means I have no identity which means I am uninteresting.
my best anecdotes are from either myself or someone else doing something very stupid, so my tactic is increase the amount of stupid shit I'm doing.
this tactic has gained me a series of new interesting scars and numb spots on my body so I think that's progress?
You only get one skeleton, do you really want to go to your grave without the kind of perplexing skeletal injuries that will make an archeologist happy to find your bones?
Live weird and leave an interesting skellington