Being in the 30ies shouldn’t stop me (or anyone) from living as I please. Are we all too afraid to jeoparize our ability to get by in life by some made up social norms that we stop letting ourselves do what we like in fear of seclusion, or is it that we’re thought to act our age and deny ourselves pleasures on some undefined set of rules of what kind of joy is acceptable and deemed normal by year of life spent?

Whichever of the two: screw that. I’ve spent my 20ies pleasing work contacts and have denied myself more fun than I should have in the name of a supposed career. If I can regret that right now I don’t want to know what it would be like regretting a life deprived of joy. I’m choosing to be true to myself over furthering a career, and I’m marking this decision with a tattoo (probably works great as a reminder in the morning).

There.

Btw the bike up there is not entirely related to this blabber. It’s a Porter made by Haro that I’m thinking of getting despite it being priced about as high as a used car. It’s tiny (people will stare. Screw em as briefly mentioned), very maneuverable and goes not just down- but actually up stairs as well. Perfect for after work Tokyo inner-city madness fun nights.