Congratulations for having a year closer to death, Klä-na-mi-ta.
Wow.
It has been long and hard---*winkface*
*winkwink*
;)
Ok, it has been long and hard 15 years of you travelling around the sun I'm glad you haven't died yet. No. Ngh. Congrats.
Cong-fucking-rats for having one more year to living your life the best.
Cong-fucking-rats for you... if you die this year—at least your age will be written 15 on your grave.
Cong-fucking-rats for having 15 years full of happiness, sadness, and WTF-IS-THIS??? things.
Cong-fucking-rats for having 15 years to grow. To learn. To tell people to go fuck themselves. To baffle people around.
Cong-fucking-rats. It has been 15 years since your born day. It has been 15 years, 9 months, and 10 days since the day your dad's sperm fertilized your mom's ovum if you were born on the exact time.
;)
NO.
NO I SAID NO. DON'T IMAGINE IT YOU PERVERT.
Well, I don't know whether you'll marry someone or dating men all around the world, but you will have THIS CHANCE LATER JUST WAIT DON'T IMAGINE YOUR PARENTS DID THAT.
Ngh. I'm so tired.
I-I... just.. don't know what to say. Don't know what to write. It just... I don't know, it feels like just another day of you and me.
It isn't even different for me, and... should it be?
The sky is still blue (because God is a man. If God were a girl, the sky would probably be pink), so is the world my daddy Poseidon has power on. Plants are growing, animals are living, humans is surviving.
We're still surviving—not living—on our birthday. Isn't that sad?
We should have at least a day each year, right? A day when we're abso-bloody-lootely f r e e. When human aren't enslaved by system. Hmmph.
But, hello, Klä, welcome to the reality.
(("And hello, yes, you, The Hypocrite Zivska. Hello. Welcome."))
The only place society—and reality—don't have any power.
Yes, you can imagine whatevs you want. Go imagine your parents doing that, if you want to. I have no right about it. No one has, thank God.
((Okay, God has, but sometimes we even doubt His existence... so... yeah.))
Do whatever you want... in your dream. In your brain. Do what makes you happy. Imagine anything. Wish everything.
*arches a creepy ear-to-ear smile*
(And this is a paradox, you know. I let you imagine anything and wish everything... but aren't these things my right? I don't even have a right to ask you to dream and wish everything).
And don't forget to live your life. Today is the oldest you've ever been, and the youngest you'll ever be—so is tomorrow. And yesterday. And the other day you've been through.
Ngh.
Well, happy birthday. Here's a photo of you while we were having video call.
It has been long and hard---*winkface*
*winkwink*
;)
Ok, it has been long and hard 15 years of you travelling around the sun I'm glad you haven't died yet. No. Ngh. Congrats.
Cong-fucking-rats for having one more year to living your life the best.
Cong-fucking-rats for you... if you die this year—at least your age will be written 15 on your grave.
Cong-fucking-rats for having 15 years full of happiness, sadness, and WTF-IS-THIS??? things.
Cong-fucking-rats for having 15 years to grow. To learn. To tell people to go fuck themselves. To baffle people around.
Cong-fucking-rats. It has been 15 years since your born day. It has been 15 years, 9 months, and 10 days since the day your dad's sperm fertilized your mom's ovum if you were born on the exact time.
;)
NO.
NO I SAID NO. DON'T IMAGINE IT YOU PERVERT.
Well, I don't know whether you'll marry someone or dating men all around the world, but you will have THIS CHANCE LATER JUST WAIT DON'T IMAGINE YOUR PARENTS DID THAT.
Ngh. I'm so tired.
I-I... just.. don't know what to say. Don't know what to write. It just... I don't know, it feels like just another day of you and me.
It isn't even different for me, and... should it be?
The sky is still blue (because God is a man. If God were a girl, the sky would probably be pink), so is the world my daddy Poseidon has power on. Plants are growing, animals are living, humans is surviving.
We're still surviving—not living—on our birthday. Isn't that sad?
We should have at least a day each year, right? A day when we're abso-bloody-lootely f r e e. When human aren't enslaved by system. Hmmph.
But, hello, Klä, welcome to the reality.
(("And hello, yes, you, The Hypocrite Zivska. Hello. Welcome."))
The only place society—and reality—don't have any power.
Yes, you can imagine whatevs you want. Go imagine your parents doing that, if you want to. I have no right about it. No one has, thank God.
((Okay, God has, but sometimes we even doubt His existence... so... yeah.))
Do whatever you want... in your dream. In your brain. Do what makes you happy. Imagine anything. Wish everything.
*arches a creepy ear-to-ear smile*
(And this is a paradox, you know. I let you imagine anything and wish everything... but aren't these things my right? I don't even have a right to ask you to dream and wish everything).
And don't forget to live your life. Today is the oldest you've ever been, and the youngest you'll ever be—so is tomorrow. And yesterday. And the other day you've been through.
Ngh.
Well, happy birthday. Here's a photo of you while we were having video call.
29/05/15,
5:37, lemari pakaian Hotel JW Marriott.
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