It's a weird feeling, turning 35. Honestly, I didn’t see it coming. Not in a grim way, just in the haze of living where every day is a question, and every night doesn’t promise an answer. But here I am, 35 years of life, mistakes, triumphs, and everything in between.

I’ve had my share of dark rooms and cold nights where the weight of my choices sat heavy on my chest. Felt the sting of consequences, the burn of regrets. Been counted out more times than I can count, but here’s the thing—I’m still here.

“In the game of life, I’ve learned, being down is a position, not a fate.”

Locked up, I saw life through bars and thought, “Is this it?” But even in that confinement, my mind was a wild, untamable thing, always reaching beyond those steel edges, always hungry for something more, something real.

Turning 35 isn’t about the parties or the candles on a cake. It’s a mirror, and in it, I see the scars and the smiles, the losses and wins, every decision that made me the man staring back. I’m not that kid anymore, the one who thought the world owed him something. I’m not the inmate, just a number in a system that eats souls for breakfast. I’m not that orphaned Kevin, the kid wondering where do I belong.

I’m a warrior of sorts, bearing the marks of battles lost and won. Every day is a fight, not against the world, but against the version of me that didn’t know he had something worth fighting for.

“So here’s the deal. Every year, every scar, every smile—they’re not just markers of age but badges of survival.”

So, 35, what’s good? I’m stepping into you with the grit of a soldier who’s seen war and the innocence of a child who believes tomorrow is always a chance for something better. I’m the product of every cell I’ve been confined to, every hand that’s reached out to me, every moment that’s attempted to break me, and every sunrise that whispered, “Try again.”

Yeah, it’s my birthday. But more than that, it’s another shot at this crazy, messed-up, beautiful thing called life. I’ve seen the bottom, but I’ve on the top much longer. Every day is a story, and trust me, this one’s worth reading.

I’m 35, scarred but not broken, tried but still true. And the best part? The story is far from over.

Welcome to The View from Exile, Chapter 35.

#Chapter35 #TheJourneyContinues #TheViewFromExile