Fuck Birthdays

Birthdays are supposed to be a happy time. You’re a year older. A year wiser. A year closer to driving. Or drinking. Or graduating. Or death.  I find birthdays to be an annual reminder of all the things I still haven’t accomplished. A review of my failures if you will. And every year I say that I will do more, I will do better, I will be better. And every year, I find myself in the same place I was 20 years ago. Bored. Dream unrealized. A little more battered. A little more bruised. And a little more worse for wear. But at least there will be cake. So I guess it’s not all depressing.


  1. I’ve been dreading my birthday for that same reason: what if a year’s passed and I’m still that same person? But I think we all grow and develop, even in the slightest of ways, so happy birthday 🙂


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