Well I hate this city for being such a weapon
Taunting its cheap thrills as distraction time
But pour me a drink, let’s talk of heaven
of jack and rye
Let’s hear stories of people struggling forever
Turning to run to forget those endeavours gone awry
The story is dear because the story is…
The story is mine
Hello everyone! I hope you are all doing well. It’s been a while since I just wrote a normal blog post. I apologize for that. I am trying to be more consistent with my blog but it’s proving to be a challenge. I will try my hardest to do better. Today, I wanted to talk about something I have already spoken at length about on this blog: my birthday. Yes, yet another post about my birthday. It’s not like I haven’t written three already or anything. No, seriously, I’ve written three about my birthday. If you want to check them out, you can find them here: 2019; 2020; 2021. I don’t want to repeat what I’ve said in the previous posts, but if I do I sincerely apologise.
I am not the biggest fan of my birthday. In fact, I dread it every year. Just the thought of it approaching kind of makes me sick to my stomach. It is a reminder that I was actually born. To be honest, I didn’t ask for this. I did not ask to be brought into this world. If my parents were to read this they would be incredibly sad, but I am not blaming them or anything. It is also a reminder of my failures. I think of what I’ve accomplished in the previous year, and I have done nothing. 2021 was an empty year for me. Nothing eventful happened. I should say, though, that for my birthday my mom took me out to dinner and I really loved it. It made my birthday a little better.
This year, however, is going to be bad. My birthdays were never really good, but I am dreading this year the most. I am going to be spending it alone in an empty house because my family is out of town at the moment. I am going to be living alone for a few months. This isn’t really a problem, but for my mental health, it is not good. I am left alone here with my thoughts because I have nothing to distract me from them. I am a little afraid; afraid I might do something to myself. Although I like this freedom, it is sad being alone. I feel so alone in more ways than one. It’s hard to explain. Something tells me that I’m going to be spending my birthday on the floor crying my eyes out.
I am going to be 27 when Sunday the 17th of April comes around. Time is passing me by and I am not moving along with it. I am stagnant. My birthday is just another reminder of how horrible my life is and how nothing is getting better, and it’s all my fault. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m tired.
Anyway, that is all from me. Thank you all for putting up with me and my ramblings, and I will see you all in the next blog post.
And it seems such a waste of time
To be drinking while my mother is tired
And my father’s sulking into his chair
They’ve had enough of my share
Of promising it’s the last time
Of thinking I won’t fail if I try
Last chance we make it out there
Last chance we get out there
Featured Image Credit: On The Road by BisBiswas