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The other day I read about some guy in Chicago who gave away his daughter at a wedding. On the Monday, he went into the garage, ran a hose into the car and hit the gas. I don't know, he was what? 52, 53? I bet he thought that this was his big statement, a grand exit. Buddy, I've got news for you. Nobody gives a shit. That's the bottom line. While you're in the turf, I'm eating a steak, my wife is doing her nails, and the guy down the street is giving some chick he met at a club the back scuttle in a motel. You lose.

I turned 50 today. Big deal, I say. Twice around the fountain and into the grave. Fuck it. I heard that somewhere and it feels right. I'm not a guy who seeks out wisdom but as the song goes, enjoy yourself. It's later than you think.

I have to say, though, I'm glad I took acid when I was younger because the vapour trails are haunting me real good. I can't put my finger on it but you begin to see the matrix, the code. Only for an instant. It moves fast. It's like when you go into the woods and start hearing things. Everything seems immediate yet somehow beyond you. And that's ok.

I was in Aruba last year and went for a swim in the sea. I looked up at the dying cathedral of cloud and colour and I felt a thud in my heart. A doctor could probably tell me what it was but then again, I don't think so. Life marks you. The brand comes from beyond and the game is to wear it well until the whistle blows.

Story by:

Timothy Dugdale

22 October 2014