Once upon a time, I began telling people that I would not live past age 30 in hopes of inducing a "placebo effect" that would impel me to live every week like I would not live past 30.
"I'm not committing suicide. I'll just…cease to exist."
Today, on my 28th birthday, I am facing another 50 years of life and am completely unfit to fill it with meaning.
"Dood, 28 is still young!"
I'm not sure that's a good thing.