Probably written in 2002 or so.

OK, I don't know. Sometimes I get the feeling that my life has passed me by. That it's way too short. Then other times it seems that life drags on much longer than it should naturally. I mean, I have this theory that man wasn't meant to live past 35 or 40. At that point his body begins failing him in all manner of ways.
One is pecked to death by ducks.
Your eye sight goes. You have all sorts of little pains of undetermined causes. The extra weight you used to be able to lose "just like that," when needed, clings to you with a death grip. And it IS a death grip - causing your weakened heart to over work itself trying to send blood to your progressively enfeebled brain. You find yourself short of breath and easily confused where you used to be unlimited in your energy and as sharp as a tack. And there's nothing you can do about it.
And, oh, your sex life! Oh god, perhaps the most unkind joke of all - well, to a person like me whose life, for the most part, has been consumed by sexual obsession (some would say) - is, if you could have sex - well - you couldn't have sex...
Remember reel to reel tapes? Well, it's like the tape has played, all the good has been gotten, but the machine has been left on and the loose end on the reel goes 'round and 'round, slapping meaninglessly.
But most times, I just want to live forever.
I not really afraid of dying - I'll probably go in my sleep like nearly everyone does in my family - but who knows what's out there? I know what's here and it's not so bad sometimes. The world is a wondrous place. I'd just like to hang around.

(Feb. 4, 2002. I know I don't have much more in me. I'm off of all of my medications. My heart is weak and I'm short of breath. My blood pressure is up. I haven't checked it - what's the point? I just know.
I'll just go until I drop. What else can a poor boy do ['cept play in a rock-n-roll band]?)