A few weeks ago I did the unthinkable.

I turned 25.

I thought maybe the quarter century mark would be followed with some other remarkable event. Perhaps a mental breakdown, or a moment of total clarity. Maybe I would suddenly become wiser, more grounded, more self-actualized.

I'm not sure if that's happened or not, unless those changes would be signaled by the pile of human diarrhoea I found in the subway station today.

So far, 25 seems to be business as usual. My life is just as manic as ever, filled with madcap misadventure and a crazy characters, and that's how I like it. I can't help it.