It's actually a shame for me that I am now on my 24th year of whoring for this so called life, and yet, it feels like I'm still on my teenage years; obviously not the way I look but rather the way I live my life and sadly, the way I think and handle things. As much as I want this one not to be a trash bag full of dramas, reality is, birthday celebration will always be a good day to shed some manly tears. If not for all of us, well, at least for me.
After that sweet escape from my 19 years of schooling that includes last minute studying, computer gaming, liquor drinking and girls lovin’, I’ve imagined this day to be a day worth using all of my brain’s 50KB memory space to remember every single detail of fun. This is going to be a day everyone will sing lovely birthday songs and will start calling me boss because I’ve got enormous amount of money, my mind dictates. No stomach will complain because five big black pigs together with the butcher had sacrificed their life for us cavemen. All guests will be drunk as fuck because we’ve got unlimited supply of booze. And then there’s this bastard, probably one of my homeboys, that will ask me who’s the not-so-lucky girl I am going to hug(?) as a part of my big celebration. Being one of the best boy scouts of my time, my answer will be straight and simple: “None. For now. And as long as I have my both hands to caress my little friend down there, that’s fine. I can wait.” After hearing my answer that sounds like a magical spell from a hypocrite giant gnome with natural British accent, they all died and the party suddenly reached its end.
Enough with this bullshit talking and going back to reality. Here I am, sitting in front of my 8 year old desktop computer. No work. No girlfriend. No social life. Broke as fuck. And aging without any progress. Pero sobrang gwapo kahit bobong mag-ingles. Happy birthday to me! 'Yun na 'yon.