Hope I die before I get old.

Ah, youth.

As a young'un, I fully intended that I wouldn't live to see my 30th birthday - it seemed my destiny and my birthright. In hindsight, it seems that if I were an artist worth my salt I would have shuffled off this mortal coil before I was 30 years old. But no - I had to go and get married for 4.5 years, which I'm now convinced threw the whole shebang off-kilter.

Interesting tidbit - the following geniuses died either prior to 30 or not long after: Nick Drake - 26, Kurt Cobain - 27, Jeff Buckley (whose own father, Tim, died when he was 28 - cue the freaky music)- 30, Elliott Smith - 34.

I'm now 37 and will be 38 all too soon. And I've not lived a careful or healthy life. I won't make a list, but suffice it to say that I've done enough stupid things, put enough horrible things into my body (hell, I still drink like a fish and smoke like a bloody chimney), and damaged myself enough that by all rights I should be outta here.

Which leads me to believe - no, make that fear, that I'm possessed with a Keith Richards-like constitution. I'm a cockroach and I cannot die.

Bugger.