february the 5th
Today is my birthday. I'm a year older. And almost everyone forgot. Except for two people. And I thank them both for their warm greetings. Especially the one who surprised me. Hey =), thanks.
Other then them though... everyone forgot. But that's okay. I was expecting it to be as such.
I hate birthdays. Well, not all birthdays. When my friends or loved ones are having their birthdays and I see them smiling and having fun, I like them. In those cases I am happy. I like seeing them smile and such. I guess what I'm really saying is that I hate my own birthday. I was walking around and saw people laughing, saw people smiling around me, and I wondered "How could they be more happier than me, on my own birthday?" I went to a little part in woods where I usually go to be by myself and I stared at the stream as the rain gently poured over its gentle waves. The wind was blowing through the trees, making sorrowful noises. It was cold. It was damp. After awhile I was soaked. I picked myself up and walked to my car. Across the parking lot people stared at me from inside their own cars. I must have been a sorry sight. I'm just thankful I'm not sick - I was out there a good half-hour in the pouring rain. I smoked a cigarette, made a birthday resolution and drove off to a cafe to write.
I hate celebrating my birthday.
I hate celebrating alone.