Many Happy Returns

Yesterday was my birthday - according to my parents and my birth certificate. And though I appreciate the numerous wishes I received – some probably well-intended, others fake – I dare admit what everyone else seems to blissfully ignore during their birthday: that there is nothing special about this day and that it simply reminds us that we are growing older and steadily pacing closer towards our inevitable death.

I struggle to comprehend the fascination and excitement that others share towards their birthday or birthdays in general. To me, it was just another day. I do not need an excuse to go out and party if I want to. And vice versa: if I don’t feel like celebrating, but would rather have a quiet night in, I should not “have to” do something just because it’s my birthday, or because it’s New Year’s Eve, or because it’s one of those devised “special” days. If people are genuinely happy to have been born and would like to celebrate the fact they survived another year onto this earth, then good for them. Some of us may have a different view on things though.

To me, it is a reminder of all the things I have not achieved yet, of all the goals I did not fulfill during the last year and that the end is getting nigh. It is a reminder that the older you get, the less flexible you become (both in body and in spirit), the less motivated you become and the less chances and stamina you have to try new things. It is echoing of the less risks and gambles you should take, of the more responsibilities you have and of the time that is ticking away.

Even more painful and disheartening are the wishes themselves. Though very much appreciated, some of them simply serve to make you more depressed than you already are. The simplest ones are the best: “Happy birthday” and a couple of “xx”. Straight-forward, to the point, they simply indicate that the person wishing you has taken those 10 seconds out of their time to do so and time is the most precious thing you can offer someone. I like the genuine ones too – and you can tell which ones these are. Some messages will be long but you can tell the difference between those bullshitting you and those who have genuinely taken the time to think about you and compose something nice, funny or original to say. If a person is treating you one way during the rest of 364 days but is super-friendly during your birthday, then they can shove their politeness up where the sun never shines.

And then of course are the wishes of relatives: May all your dreams come true, hope you become successful in all you do, prosper in your career, find a nice girl, get married and have lots of wonderful, perfect kids. No pressure there, right? Not only are you reminding me that I am getting older but you are also reminding me of the fact that I should hurry and make sure I accomplish all of the things you listed, since my life has been a total failure and disappointment so far! And whose “dreams” will be coming true anyway? Have you wondered if I will be happy or if I am happy or do you just take it for granted that changing nappies full of shit is everyone’s dream in life? (This mostly goes out to Mediterranean families who are convinced that they are living the ideal lives, who are too glued onto their kids, thinking they are the centre of the world, believing that their children are perfect and indestructible, and urging their offspring to follow exactly the same path, so that 30 years from now it will be their turn to apply the same pressure to their children, without a single person pausing at any given moment in life to simply dare attempt to view life from a different perspective and perhaps even succeed in enjoying it – if at all possible).

In reality, what are birthdays though but nature’s own ticking time bomb? Birthdays bring us one more step, one more minute, month, year closer to our deaths. Most people are scared by the idea of death. They are frightened of the unknown, of the end, of even hell perhaps (more about death in another blog post). Death does not frighten me though. Sure I am concerned about the way I would die (would not wish to be buried alive for example). I am concerned about the pain and agony I might suffer beforehand, about the things I will regret doing or not doing, saying or not saying and of situations and emotions left without closure. However, I see death as the sweet release. I truly believe that the only free man is a dead man. What does scare me is old age. Failure. Enslavement to this life. And my next birthday. If I’m lucky enough, everything will end in 21^st December 2012 (more about the end of the world in another blog post). But whilst the Apocalypse might be something I look forward to, my next birthday is definitely something I do not.