Not since I turned 13 had I felt good about celebrating my birthday. I always feared getting old. To me the passing of life also meant approaching death. This morbid approach towards birthdays made quite a bit of a pitstop today when I was greeted by a good number of people. (more than usual). It was, however, not my birthday.
It began with my comment in the blog of Q the Quixotic Conqueror. His story of birthday related incidents sent LSS’s to my brain – “it’s my birthday and I’d cry if I want to..” – he thought it was my birthday.
I always knew students of Ateneo were advanced. So when Q greeted me ‘happy birthday’ and spoke of taking it from my blog’s subliminal messages, I was amazed.
“What an abstract mind Q has,” I told myself in him connecting a post about pooping in public toilets to a birthday. I, who had by then questioned my own smarts for not getting these “subliminal messages,” blurred the situation more by replying “I wonder how many more people would greet me..”
And oh did people greet me.
HAPPY FIRST FAKE BIRTHDAY TO ME!
In the name of all cute things that can only happen to me, July 11 will officially be my fake birthday!