I do not want to exist for an eternity.
I want to enjoy my time here living in this realm,
Because to continue living after expiring,
That idea is a true nightmare.
If I am condemned to an inferno for being a good human being,
Let it be.
But what is good?
I stopped caring for my “coming out of the womb” day for several years now, I think when I was six, the teen version. I realized something, and this holds true as technology continually forwards itself. We, or at least most of us, are all guilty of doing this, and it is quite melancholic to think about. Let me explain what it is that I am trying to say in the form of a quote:
"You are only spoken to on your birthday."
If the above is difficult to comprehend, then here is my elaboration. Friends, family, and other people involved with some part of one’s past life only feel inclined to communicate when the day of one’s existence arrives. I always appreciate a greeting, but I wish the conversation was something more than “Happy Birthday,” and even when our chats commence, it only lasts on that special day. Then one must wait another year to hear from a relative or long lost mate.
I am guilty of the thing I described, but I try my best to keep in touch with those I love. I suppose my frustration with this annual holiday should end in a proposal, if whoever is reading this has not yet understood my message.
Don’t let a birthday, anniversary, holiday, or anything of the same be the only time you speak to your friends and family.
I am now two decades oldddddddd.
I can no longer say “I’m nine, the teen version.”
Well, the joke was good while it lasted.
I am nine…
the teen version.