I’M AN ADULT WITCH, INFANT!

Today is the 26th of November of 2010 and my birth certificate says that today is the 17th anniversary of the first time I inhaled sweet oxygen through my own nose and filled my lungs with it.

I have been alive and kicking for 17 years. :)

I don’t really know what’s so important about birthdays. I mean, okay, so you were born on that day, so what? You’re also alive on other dates that are NOT your birth dates. Why do our birth dates hold so much significance to us?

It seems ironic how the young are excited to become adults—legal. They wanna experience all the privileges of adulthood, not taking into consideration that as they become older, they also inherit more responsibility. Obviously, maturity is not always directly proportional to age.

But in contrast to that situation, old people are so immersed in the battle against aging that they spend so much on it—surgeries, medical/miracle pills, anti-aging creams, etcetera, etcetera.

The human mind is a curious thing. Hmmmmmph.

But to be honest, when I have birthdays, it doesn’t really feel all that different compared to other days. People just greet you, sing for you, hug you and give you gifts. Well, okay I guess it is different. But besides all the greeting, people sometimes sing for, hug and give you gifts even when it’s not on your birthday. My point is, we don’t have to reserve special acts of kindness just on days when certain people celebrate their birthday. Sure, birthdays present convenient opportunities to talk with an acquaintance because it is a reason in itself to start a conversation. But why restrict ourselves to that?

Why don’t we be as kind, happy, as generous and open on all the days for the rest of our lives? Why can’t everyday be our “birthdays”? Or…maybe the question should be, why can’t we celebrate every day we are alive as “life days”? Isn’t the majesty and glory of being fully alive and breathing already enough of a reason to celebrate?

LIVE, my friends. And be merry. And not just on your birthdays.

Be joyful and be kind even when it’s not your or a friend’s birthday—be happy on strangers’ birthdays too—which is, basically, EVERYDAY. ;)

With that mindset, everyday is literally a birthday. Not yours, obviously. But who said anything about restrictions in sharing? ;)

P.S. I hope you got my HP reference. And the post I’m praising with my title. I’ll probably always substitute baby with infant now. It’s just more bad as*… in a totally lame way.