13:58 - 16.11.2007
instead of

today would be
but it's not
today would be
but i forgot.

what we call a "birthday" isn't truly our day of birth, our true birthday. rather, it is, as martin prince of the simpsons put it when passing out invitations to his classmates, the "annual celebration of...[our] birth." i was born on a sunday, my birthday. during a football game. but i was faster than the game. born in less than an hour, amazingly, from the time my mother started labor. two months premature. tiny, but perfectly fine. i was born with black hair, which quickly faded to blond, which darkened to brown, and then faded back to blond. and now is dyed a blackbrightredauburnbrownpurple color. that glitters in the sun. i'm a blond; b-l-o-n-d./i'm a blond; don't you wish you were me? dry, sarcastic chuckle.

noone wishes that they were me.

my fiance didn't get me anything for the annual celebration of my birth. again. noone got me anything. so, i am not having a birthday. it's not a celebration if noone recognizes it. no presents. no cards. no party. no phonecalls. no anything. just me. alone because my fiance is playing video games with vague hints of going to see friends later. fine. leave me alone of the birthday i do not have.

friday. freya's day. freyasdaeg. freyas tag. freya, the norse goddess of love and beauty. maybe she would help me fight mia. i wanted to do a spell today, but my energies are shit because i'm purging. dehydrated. and such.

too many years ago i was born upon this day.

sunday. sun's day. sonnendaeg. sonnes tag. i was born on a sunday. warm sun. cold mia. melt her? have to get my supplies, too. have to try to make a run tonight. the spell is allready in my head. just have to write it down and rehearse.

happy birthday, [moron].
happy birthday, [moron].
i have a knife;
well, i have a gun.
happy birthday, [moron].

don'task. notsaying.

i feel selfish for expecting a present. and ignored for not recieving one; plus the fact that my fiance has been playing zelda for hours. if i had a birthday cake, i'd gobble it down in a flash and force it back up as vomit. vegan cakes are actually quite tasty. but it wouldn't matter if it tasted like shit. mias don't taste anything except the bitter aftertaste of vomit.

mia wants to cradle me in a gesture of comfort and muchneeded affection. if you luvme, gimme. she will...but only if i let her. right? RIGHT???

who's wrong: me or my fiance? iknow that miais. (she lies about EVERYTHING!) but so does my fiance. sad. confused. hurt. would it have been so much to get me a cheap present? a pad of paper and a 10pack of bic ballpoints. what's that; three bucks? a 99cent greeting card? an "i love you" or "you're special"? why didn't my fiance get me anything? know how many presents i got my fiance back in april? including the card and cake, i think it was eleven or twelve. not including the words i gave. the time i spent as company. things that cannot be counted or measured.

& why does it hurt so much that i recieve nothing? i must be terribly greedy. i should punish myself. it doesn't bother or otherwise affect my fiance to have ignored my birthday. carrying about as usual. only i am thrown of balance; i must be the problem. i am wrong. i am broken. maybe i cannot be fixed. maybe i could kill mia and startover. give back everything i think i have ever taken from my fiance. live in my parent's basement. eventually, meet someone else and move back out with them. when i feel ready.

maybe that is what i should do.

21. the final rite of passage into adulthood. can say i'm officially fullygrown. oh, what a lie! what a fucking horrible lie! i'm not an adult. i'm still verymuch a child. trying to spread my fragile wings and fly away. but they're still wet and goopy from the hatching. need a safe place to dry. afraid to dry out. haven't found a safe place. want to be certain. stumbling on unsteady legs. wobbly. comical in the eyes of the beholder. frustrating and painful to me.

can't tell me "happy birthday, [moron]." don't think i'm a moron. i think i'm just lost in the dark right now. as soon as my fingers brush the lightswitch, i'll be saved. but this life is an unfamiliar house. don't know where the switch is.

i do believe in progressive karma. each life holds a different lesson we need to learn. i'm not certain of what my lesson for this life is, but i am certain that i'm learning it the hard way. we suffer the most by our own hands. care too much about pleasing others, as opposed to pleasing or even taking care of ourselves. our bodies. our souls. torture ourselves to fit in. to be wanted. to belong. maybe just looking in the wrong place. probably would be welcomed with outstretched arms and smiling faces by the right group without having to change a thing about ourselves.

i do not love my fiance. i see that clearly now. just want to be wanted. i am looking in the wrong places.

have i learned my lesson? am i free to do?

i think i'd rather stick around. apply my knowledge. see what it's like to be an adult. with dry, functioning wings and steady, synchronized legs.