I Have Nothing to Declare.

I am a survivor. This is the conclusion I have arrived at after contemplating the sum of the past thirty one years of my life. And that's fine. The problem is that for the past ten years I have been walking around in the kind of daze experienced by someone who has just been pulled from a smoldering wreck. I have been left to wonder, why me? I exist in a slow catatonic state which does not allow to me see a clear direction or plot a true course in my life. A vague sense of guilt envelopes me like the fog. To others I must be a silhouette, a ghost of someone they used to know. To me they are mirrors and I am growing old.
I am a lucky man. I have lived to see thirty one years. I have traveled around the world. I have loved and been loved by beautiful women. I have won the praise, respect and admiration of great people. I have made some real friends.