My Nomadic Life, Non Fiction, Photography, travel, travel, Writing

Thirty-Five

I always thought I’d be dead by thirty-five. I don’t know where this fixation came from, what triggered it, or why I believed it, but the imagined certainty that I wouldn’t live to see forty defined my 20s and early 30s in a very real way. My friends in university would tell me to stop… Continue reading Thirty-Five