birthdays come once a year (if you’re lucky) and are considered an occasion for celebration in most cultures — especially the ones that equate being older with being wiser.
not true. i have counterexamples that i will not hesitate to present, if provoked.
frick. i've been provoked.
counter-example #1: wars.
counter-example #2: sequels to wars.
birthdays aren’t just for the living. the dead get them too — provided they were famous enough.
they remind us what it’s like to be alive, what it’s like to be born unconsented, and serve as a convenient excuse for people to gather and talk shit about those who didn’t show up.
if you think about it long enough, birthdays are like most things in life:
they happen spontaneously, leaving you alone to deal with the aftermath.
"oh, my birthday was yesterday? who was going to tell me?"
[answers]
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that’s an unreasonable request. also, not a question.
btw, happy birthday — whenever it’s due.
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there’ll come a day. you’ll have to deal with it.
i don’t do announcements. we like it quiet here: me, the inner demons, the closet monsters, and everybody in between.
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birthdays are like magic. if you don’t believe in them, one will fly past without you ever knowing.
knowing other people’s birthdays comes in handy while scamming. just saying.
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5,000 years and counting.