The day I was born…

… I didn’t choose for that to happen. Or did I? I’ll never know until my afterlife. But birthdays have taken new meanings for me since a few years ago; it celebrates my birth (or anybody else’s for that matter), and all the joy, friendship and love my birth brings to the world (and vice-versa). So I had stopped feeling sorry for myself that I’m doing a + 1 to a socially-reckoned-depressing number called ‘age’. It’s a day to celebrate that we’re still alive in this world, loving and contributing in our own ways.

I’ve mentioned before (quite a few times actually), that I love growing old. Of course the bimbo part of me fears wrinkles and all that jazz that come with the physical. But inside, (inside!!), I feel like a flower, that only begins to blossom. I am no longer confined to the institution of schools (and homework and exams); I feel so much more sure of myself now compared to my early 20s, and even late 20s. Our failed and successful attempts build a realistic idea of how to work the world, and (hopefully) our future manoeuvres in life become slightly easier (but hopefully not less exciting). I know what I want now more clearly, and relationships are easier to handle because you know that you really don’t live to please everyone in this world. As long as you don’t harm people, it’s ok to be you, to be a little weird, or kooky.

That being said, there’s a danger of growing old.

I’ve seen how people become insecure of themselves because of their age (and all sorts of defense mechanisms come surfacing to rescue the soul). I’ve seen how people give up certain things because of the number. I’ve seen how people become fossilised in their opinions, because afterall, they have more experience and hence their opinions ‘must’ be right.

It’s a constant struggle to balance delicately – a thirst for curiosity, and the built-up of self-belief.

If you’re thinking that being old means getting to the D word, you’re wrong. Because the D word doesn’t necessary happen to very old people only. Statistically yes, but nobody knows who is the exception.

Depressing stuff huh! Yes I’m that bipolar (sometimes).

Thank you to each and everyone of you who wishes me ‘Happy Birthday’. I may not have met you before; or you may be a friend I do not often see; or you could be someone I hang out with all the times (or sometimes), I…… thank…. you, for remembering me. 🙂

Can I say again that Facebook rocks, cos this really made me go ‘waaaah’!

Screen shot 2011-02-22 at AM 01.38.21

Only then do I realise that my FB friends sleep VERY late. Thanks guys, your well-wishes make a good start to my day. 22 Feb 2011 Tues, I’ll enjoy you and soak up the love. You enjoy the day too! 🙂

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