I'm tired. Dead exhausted and frustrated.
I've no idea what I'm so frustrated about actually. I'm so frustrated, even the shelves in my room are pissing the fuck out of me. WHY DO SHELVES LOOK SO MESSY NO MATTER HOW I ARRANGE THEM!?

And, I really cannot stand my bedsheet covers. But, just changed, so, too bad.

One more day to my birthday.

Pre-birthday blues are eating into me. Very soon, my age will not start with a 1 anymore. It'll start with a 2. =(
Very soon, freckles, wrinkles and what-have-yous will start invading my face, and tanning would be a serious problem.

When I was a kid, birthdays meant to much more.
Birthdays meant parties, candies, cakes, presents, and fun.
As I age, birthdays don't seem to matter as much anymore.
In fact, I don't even feel like creating such a big hoo-ha out of my 21st next year. But my mother insists I should.

Well, birthdays.
Everyone keeps asking me 'where's your party?' , 'who's invited?' , 'where're you holding your celebration at?'.
Seriously, ever since the first day I went out to celebrate my birthday with my own friends, it's always been a strict tradition. Different groups of friends date me on different days, and we have dinner, etc. Whatever that's planned for me.

I've never had an issue with that.. in fact, I enjoy that idea pretty much.
It's always more like a gathering, a catch-up session especially for people I don't see around often.

Birthdays are becoming increasingly more like just any other day to me these days.
So much so that I really wouldn't feel much of a biggie if I don't get presents or candy anymore. (My dear baby, I mean it.)
I celebrate it for the sake of... conformity I guess.
It's as if it's a tradition that I've to follow. If I don't, I feel like I did something wrong.
Yes it's that exagerrated.
Maybe after my 21st, birthdays will really be just any other day.

And I actually don't quite mind at all.

Alright, time to hit the sack.
Long day ahead tomorrow.