My last post was hopelessly uninspired. Now I feel bad that I uploaded something like that because I believe, as a self-classified good writer, once it's not heartfelt it's utter garbage.
Therefore, so far I have one crappy post. I don't think I intend to have any more. But I won't delete it, 'cause... I need something to remind me of how shitty I can write sometimes and keep me grounded.
Now, the second reason I'm here again is to respond to a blog post I was referred to today.
It's the gentleman's birthday (which he doesn't celebrate) and, regardless of how I might behave, I understand totally. I don't like celebrating mine either.
Being the amateur numerologist I am, to be born on November 11 (11/11) is enough of an event. Clash of the ones and whatnot. That's all it means to me.
I woke up on my birthday last year and all I said to myself was, "Well...so you're 16 now. Good luck."
Others made the big deal. I let them. I don't mind others celebrating it but....don't force me to celebrate with you. When I don't, don't act like I'm some sort of weird freak (even though I kinda am...)
That's why I was in a bad mood. (You should know I am a moody, moody person.)
To me, whether you were born on January 1 or December 31, it doesn't matter. The important thing is that you were born. Which can be good or bad, depending on how your self-esteem is.
Being awed at the difference between this post and my last,
@Jaye_Eccentriq
16 years
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