People around me my age are dying. I'll be seven in July, with seven decades underneath.

I've really been abusing my old body lately but I think that's just caused by depression over the fact that I have no one to love. And the more I abuse myself, lessens the possibility of that ever happening.

I'm in survival mode. Every morning I swing my legs out of bed to my left and plant my feet square into the slippers I left there the night before, which I don't remember doing.

Embracing the knowledge that I'm a good man. I love and respect most everyone I meet. I have no ill intentions towards absolutely anyone.

Somehow my genetics have allowed me to abuse myself and survive. I've made great contributions to this world, and I've totally messed up a few.