This year, my birthday was a secret.
At certain times and under certain lighting I will catch myself thinking positively. Three hours ago I turned exactly twenty-two years old and I continue to find myself eagerly awaiting a mid-life crisis that has the surging determination to shake me from the feebly lined context in which I continue to bask. These current crises I cower from on a daily basis will surely prove to be paltry and undefined and I've grown bored with them, so bring out the big guns. At a certain age I woke from the dreamy self-assurance attached to temper tantrums and petty vandalism and crested the surprisingly surmountable peak of giving a damn. Only, I'm still waiting for the views it offers to come into focus. It's become all too easy to get lost amongst the stacked chairs and vacant stares of benevolence. So keep pushing forward. Twenty-three is only hours away.