I'm turning 30 this October. And sometimes I can't quite believe it. At times I feel some years of my life just passed me by and it sucks when I waste time thinking long and hard what I did with those years. It also hurts I can't seem to remember what good those wasted years did me. There are so many things I'd love to accomplish, adventures I'd love to devour, experiences I'd want to gush about, deadlines I'd be challenged to meet. Yet here I am in my darkened room thinking about wasted years, nothing to show for my bravery and eloquence. I am envious and I am still blind. I see the horns of depression pushing its way out. I feel the bumps of helplessness struggling to take over. I'm thinking it's futile to stop them. But I still suppress them with what's left of my diminishing sanity. I'd like to think I'm in control of my life. I'd like to think I'm an adult who has learned...