happy birthday to me.... in less than one and half hours.

so these are my last waking hours being sixteen. its around that time that you look back and recollect all that occurred in your sixteenth year of living, in your sixteenth year of life. Sixteen is such a pivotal age, one in which you would exact much change. I've felt the same way since i was about 12.... i always felt as if i were an older woman trapped in this smaller body. and not that i wanted expansion of responsibility or acknowledgement for maturity, i just wanted to be left alone. sadly, i feel either entirely ahead or behind my own generation. My heart lies in eras I've never met, my mind lives in an age beyond my physical being. i;m torn between time space and being in itself. Thus, i live half lives.

I'm here to question myself, wonder and see who, what, when and where my life has gone, came back and redirected itself in my sixteenth year. three hundred and twenty five days of living...and have i made progress in any form? i made people cry...i can tell you that much. I Wonder if i loved in this year...I dated here and there, had a "steady" girlfriend..and hated every waking minute of our time together. i think this year, was the year of transition. I don't like the idea of living by year, month, or day... why must i hold my entire life accountable towards these ficticious definitions for the passing of time? with time comes, the urge of expectancy, with time comes expiration and with time comes death, paranoia and old age. I wouldn't mind old age. stretching skin, aching fingers....the slow transitions into death. i think nothing if more lovely, nothing is more beautiful. We all live in such cyclic forms and old age is one we tend to ignore... there is  something so lovely, so romantic about aging and i cannot put my finger on it, but it's lovely.

what have i lost. what have i gained.
i lost the urge to write publicly.... which i believe let some people down. let myself down. i miss the inspiration i received from others.
i painted a lot.
i cried a lot. not entirely out of sorrow..I'm never really sad, but out of longing for the past.
nostalgia is a very intense emotion.
i went through about three septum rings, all of which make me sneeze.
i had close friends move away.
had a lot of awkward sexual encounters.
slept.
wrote. etc.
i'd prefer to have a birthday every Monday. and we wouldn't call them birthdays, we'd call them life days. and sometimes we'd scatter them about the weeks. and on every Monday when you are feeling most dreary, you could be happily greeted by all who is around you, to celebrate life.
i think people forget that birthdays are days to celebrate life. new coming life, and the life lived. but i;d rather not celebrate my past year, and instead celebrate the year to come.

this past year i lost and gained an extensive amount of spiritual prospectives. i read some things, and saw somethings that influenced me a great deal and i made decisions on career paths i hope will never actually happen.... but for years now, most of my vision and outlook has remained the same.which never seems to disappoint me.