Tuesday, March 23, 2010


was my birthday. Thanks to all the well wishers. I have been on this planet for 27 years. How would the world have been different? Best not to concern yourselves with that one. As I sat on my stoop last night thinking about the upcoming benchmark, I became sad. (Worry not friends it happens to the best of us.) I just got overwhelmed, then I realized why. I am Peter Pan. I don't want to grow up, I don't look into the future and see myself smiling back, I look to the past and see a toe headed child with his arm outstretched, asking me to play with him. He is smiling, and always sad when I give him the, "Well, what can I do" look. Shoulders shrugged, half smile trying to overcome my always frowning mustache. I tilt my head and he runs off, looking for a new adventure. It is a regret of nothing that makes me feel this way. What would you call it if you regret your present? Don't worry this will pass, and always seems to happen around my birthday. Another thing, I do not like grown up birthdays. I remember having friends over, running wild, screaming, shouting. We had cake and colorful presents wrapped so that anything could be inside. Our dreams, our futures were tied by those bright bows. I spent my birthday alone. No running, no screaming, no cake. I ate the worst Chinese food I have ever had and before that I might have even taken a nap. Then I watched a depressing tv show, and after, a depressing movie. I had no idea that either of these would work out the way they did. I know I am not alone in this type of celebration. There is a pain in my heart. Has been there ever since I understood what it was. Maybe if my family were assholes, I wouldn't look back with such wide eyes. Damn them for a wonderful childhood. Can it all go downhill after those vibrant balloons and sugary cakes? Nah, I'm just pissed off because I am bored. It's time to go back to work. Time to think about the future, because that's possible. Going back to when I could run and jump and scream while slaying dragons or hitting that game winning shot or having Donatello defeat Shredder, going back to then is not possible. Nobody will play with me. And I have to admit that is a good thing because if my friends were still playing with G.I. Joes and legos, I would have to reconsider who I was and if I really was a 27 year old man living, working, breathing on his own. Or if I was being taken care of by the state. There is advice that I have heard, repeated and genuinely believe in. The past is over, there is no going back. Remember the good times. (and the bad, hey they build character) You age. End of story, but not the end.

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