I am a cocktail of bad genes. I couldn’t picture myself living past the age of 25. Then 25 came and went, and I was sure I’d never make it to 30. Then 30 happened, and I thought there was no way I’d make it to 35. Well. Someone fucked up because I’m still here.
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No 30 under 30 lists, no noteworthy accolades, no book signings or whatever the hell I imagined success looked like as a kid. But I’m STILL FUCKING HERE, and you know what? I’m just getting started.
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Merry Krismas to me

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