Birthday

I cried for a while today. About what, I'll never know. It's becoming almost comical for me to cry, because it's such a basic instinct that I have to treat it like breathing.

_________

I shall wake up tomorrow morning being 15 years and one day old.

Mhm. Today was my birthday, though I largely forgot about it and tried to ignore it. For me, I'm still trying to understand the human desire to ark the passage of time, when in reality we like things the way they are. Perhaps it's just a human predisposition we've had since the beginning of time.

What's more, I languish when I hear the word time. It's just so irritating to listen to. Time-capsules, time-trials, time-zones, time-travelers, time-pieces. My guess is part of it is that time is also a man-made concept, just like racial differences, or morality. Humans thought up time because they needed a way to mark events in their lives. The "beginning of time" is really when Caveman A woke up and said to Caveman B, "Hey...it's not yesterday!"

Which brings me to the point of birthdays, which really make no sense to me. Scratching the surface, why are we celebrating the date of our birth and not the date of our conception...the real beginning of our existence? Second of all, why celebrate it? It's a date. On the Gregorian Calender.

But presents are always nice.

___________

Welcome to the blog-o-sphere, Lukas. Fuck Myspace.