Happy birthday to me.

This I think is the first time that I am commemorating my birthday alone. I say commemorate because there’s not really any celebration going on. Save except on Facebook. I’m alone at the beach, drinking at some small bar. No cakes, no songs, hungry at that. Nothing but cigarettes and a bottle of beer. This is the life.

I never realized it was already my birthday until I got the call from a few friends back home. Greetings and a reminder to curse that place that we stayed at here before, and a promise to raze that place to the ground. Not happening though, on second thought, sounds like fun. Commemorate thy birthday with a ceremonial pyre. That would put all those firedancers to shame. Now that would be something.

This trip is etching out to be something totally expected, except for that part when I get convinced to buy my vacations for the next eight years. Manageable yes, as long as I don’t get rushed to the emergency room anytime soon or have any sudden need for antibiotics. At the very least, I was able to buy dates for tomorrow evening. Now that’s something.

I never thought that growing older would actually make me feel… older.  Am I really? I always thought that some form of escape would make me feel revitalized or rejuvenated at the most but I guess we don’t really get what we want always.  If we did, that would be something.

I still have a full day tomorrow to spend getting crazy and do things on a whim. That should set this right and make this trip better. I guess. Id probably get a tattoo. Go parasailing. Take on a drinking challenge. Have a four-day affair with an older or younger woman. Probably a foreigner.  Go on a food trip all around the beach. I don’t know. Almost drown. That would be something.

Is there anything I’d wish for now that I am twenty-nine?  Whoever thought of making birthday wishes anyway? That sip of beer made my empty stomach grumble a lot less. It would be embarrassing and painful to throw up at the beach on an empty stomach. As if I had not done that before. Throw up on the beach. That was something. Back then. For me.

For a moment there the lights went out at this little bar. Take that as a sign. If I ever learned anything the past twenty-nine years, it could be that everything is a sign. There are just some that we chose to ignore and then there are other that we let control our lives. We tend to be selective with our signs when all of them actually point to the same truth in the end. It’s just a matter of paying attention to details. Which ones? I don’t know. I just work here.

Here’s another round to twenty-nine. Happy birthday to me. Older. Hopefully wiser, wishfully better. Now that’s something.


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