12:37 a.m. - 2003-03-25
Happy birthday to me.
Today I am 23.
This is a full 5 years longer than I expected to live. For God only knows what reason, I always thought I was going to die before I turned 18. I didnt consciously realize this until right before my eighteenth birthday, when I was struck by the seeming impossiblity of the situation. I was in trouble, I hadnt planned for this.
(By way of celebrating my continued existance, I got my tongue peirced. My mouth is full of the memory of pain of having a steel bar inserted into my tongue. Only now, 5 years later do I question the logic of this.)
While still comparatively young, I feel old. On bad days I feel like my time has passed, and that things are going on far longer than they should. On good days I am blessed beyond reason. The unexpected gift of years and years and years to see things, learn things, be an adult, and do whatever I want.
Alot of my family memebers died while I was young, this may have somthing to do with it. Let me make it clear, i do not WANT to die. But Im nowhere near as afraid of dying as I otherwise might be. I learned early to make my peace with death, and when my gift is taken back, well..... damn, this entry is getting really morbid.
Alright, alright, enough. Everybody gets a little maudlin on their birthday. I think these transitional years are a perfectly acceptable time to be pre-occupied with death. We're all learning to deal with the end of one life and the beginning of another. Even with all our new freedoms, being an adult is just never going to be as much fun as being a kid.
