Despite my frantic effort to change my Facebook profile to July 18 instead of June 18, some people still have gotten it right. I don't celebrate my birthday normally, and as far as I can recall, there were only two occasions that I did, my Merchandising Department in Avid at the Dampa, Paranaque and my Dakila friends friends in Avid at the Jacks Loft, Eastwood. I never had any recollection of it being celebrated when I was a kid.
Probably it is also the reason why I have grown and looked a bit older than my age because I skipped my childhood. I even look older than my older brother, and has similarly a serious demeanor. Although I can crack my maarte jokes at some occasion.
It was okay though. I never had any lingering letdowns with it. After all, being stuck into childhood doesn't get me to places. One thing that I really was after of is independence. And there I am. Reaping the rewards of my wishes, I am in my sought-after solitude.
Midlife crisis? I have gone past with it. It's because I don't live 60years. Unknown to my family, I am diagnosed diabetic since college. They only knew it when I stepped in my thirties.
What I wanted to do? I wanted to live in a foreign land. Perhaps New Zealand, where the breeze of fresh air meets the urban lifestyle, where there are only few people, even fewer than their domesticated livestocks, particularly sheeps. If not, Turkey and Azerbaijan would be just fine.
But for now, here I am, cholesteroling an el cheapo combo meal in a food court. In my birthday, alone again, naturally.