look at me i'm twenty-three

There are some songs that you just can’t help but fall in love with. Although Real was written in the female perspective, I found myself understanding each and every line. After having it on loop for a few centuries, I finally found the backbone to my birthday post.

August 8, 2009
4:32 AM

Look at me. I’m 23. Beautiful, a sight to see tonight.

It is almost morning but night won’t lend itself to sleep. I’ve been lying wide awake in my room trying to think about where I am, how far I’ve come and where I want to go. It’s my birthday and the early birds have all sent their greetings. I replied with a quick Thank you! and hoped that they wouldn’t sense my growing disappointment and anticipation.

Do you want me ‘cause I am hungry for something that will make me real.

Something is missing. I can’t seem to place my finger on it. I’ve got a loving family, really understanding friends, a great career- I should be happy. Why am I unhappy? It guess it just feels like everything has been anesthetized or something- like I’ve been enjoying everything through a really large pane of glass. I see my life, my friends, my love but I cannot touch them. I can only watch.

I close my eyes, imagine time will not forget my sacrifice.

I’ve done my time. I’ve paid my dues. I think it’s high time I find true happiness. I’ve been searching for it in all the wrong places, I know. But that’s what happens when you go through so many changes in such a short period of time. Last year, I was relatively young in this industry and already, I went through three jobs and a promotion. Now that everything’s slowing down, I can feel the wind catching up with me. I try to breathe but my own ambitions have choked the air out of me.

I numb the ache and decorate my emptiness, stand naked in the light.

I thought if I didn’t think about it, I wouldn’t feel too bad. The pain of stagnation has taken over all aspects of my life. I’ve taken to fill the void with different things. I am so blessed to have my family and friends. Without them, I know I would cease to exist. Thank you for remembering me on this day.

Well be pleased, world, if this is what you wanted. This young girl is everything that you've made.

I am no longer the boy I was three years ago. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Maybe this is what they call growing up.

The world goes home. The lights go down. My lipstick fades away.

I will have a happy birthday. I am determined to do just that. This is my one day in an entire year of emo possibilities. My one day to be happy. I should make the most out of it.

Postscript: I fell asleep right after I wrote this post so I never got to post it in time for my birthday. I went to work fully expecting that I would be all sulky and stuff but I actually had a great time. I am truly blessed to have such wonderful friends who can see through the bullshit and can make me really happy. Thank you for making me very, very happy on my birthday.

	Plumb Real Beautiful Lumps of Coal