My birthday

Eighteen? I still feel thirteen. Peter Pan complex.

I skipped my dental fillings appointment yesterday (fear of the needle, the needle!), did two hours of Geography, plus six hours of being with my thug best friends, but I have not forgotten the anniversary of my birth.

It’s one of the things that has motivated me get through these weeks. I’ve mostly been suffering from the birthday blues. What saddened me was age and the fact that I will never be given the opportunity to feel as I once did. A second always becomes the past. Days ago I was crying my eyes out about my self-worth, jealousy, and sadness becoming worse every year—-Sweet God, this is depressing! I’ll just change the topic. It’s no biggie. I cry because I am afraid.

But, really good things have happened. For example, I am getting a puppy, who I named Greta. She’s two weeks old and still needs her mother’s milk, so I won’t be getting her until two months.

I don’t know why I chose to attend school today. I could’ve skipped. For some reason my silly self expected to get a festive day, but idiots here made it intolerable instead. Sure, your talk of mushrooms and red cigarettes are like my morning pinata.

I feel a bit crabby, but I know it will pass. I have a fun day ahead of me. But, hell, why did I choose to spend six hours with brats who talk about weed as if it were candy?

No one here has really acknowledged my birthday and my time is wasted. I’m crabby enough to not try hard with schoolwork today.

How much have I changed since turning seventeen? I guess I worked harder in school, watched unforgettable movies, liked new music and was less depressed.

Yeah, last year I expected my sadness to go away. It didn’t, but I am no longer staying in bed for days begging my life to be finally over. I have my deep blue moments sometimes, like last night. It was around midnight and I was crying and thinking myself unworthy of anything. I thought getting a film career wouldn’t amount to anything and that I would never be recognized artistically and age would trap me in the ward of hopelessness.

Oh, the blues. The broken-hearted blues. I was also depressed over the fact that I’m jealous over anything and it’s taking over my life and it has been worsening over the years. “Why live another year of this?” I thought.

But, my sister came in the room once the clock struck twelve and she asked me if I wanted to see one of my presents and I said I did. It was a necklace with a locket attached.

It was very nice, yet my blue mood sometimes suceeds in taking power.

I will have a good day today. I don’t care if I cry. I want to make it memorable. It’s another year on Earth!

Last year I became more fascinated with Fritz Lang’s movies. Discovered music like Fields Of The Nephilim and T.Rex as they kind of got me out of a messy depression fueled by the tedium of summer.

This year shall bring more enlightenment. I am going to Finland in six months and start college once I come back. Frankly, the thought of what could happen after scares me but it will probably go fine.

I’ll watch Breakfast on Pluto today as part of past birthday traditions. That movie has been a gateway to many things. It introduced me to T.Rex.

I think I’m going to ask my sister to pick me up early.

I continue writing this in a later hour from my phone and I can say my birthday is going fine. My sister put me my favorite performance of my favorite band and some T.Rex.

Pictures of my favorite singer all over the living room.

I’m going to eat Peruvian food! More of my gifts have been shipped and hopefully will come soon.

And, I’ve been waiting four years to fully identify to this song and now it seems appropriate.


6 thoughts on “My birthday

  1. a very happy birthday to you, isadora!

    it’s strange to get the birthday blues, isn’t it? but once the birthday itself arrives, it feels rejuvenating and the blues just go away. you’re given another day and another chance to get better, and i know you will! you have plenty of things to look forward to and i’m excited for you. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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