I'm still here

If someone asked me in 1990 if I would see 2015 and I was forced to give an honest answer and not some diplomatic fib, I'd have said no.

No because I didn't think I'd survive the torment another four years. No because they might have pushed me into violent, criminal acts. No because of substances or recklessness generally. 

Against my own odds, it really is 2015. And I'm still here. 

Scarred, weak at times. But better off than I ever expected to be. Better off than maybe I deserve. 

2020, 2025, the honest answer, I think definitely maybe. Perhaps hopefully.

Directions are as much a mystery as they ever were. Sometimes my ego lets me have the delusion of steering my own ship. Reality is that seas change without warning and we are all very tiny organisms in a universe so vast, many refuse to fathom because the idea of it is too frightening. 

The universe doesn't scare me, though. 

If anything, its vastness is what gives me hope that maybe there is a meaning to this life.