i was born early morning, june 3rd. 1:13 am.
i love how people struggle to find meaning in the numbers, the days of the week, in the movements of the stars and planets. everything. in the end though, i’m not sure if anything has meaning other than the meaning we invest. humans are the real power, not freaking dots of light in the sky, so far away they could be dead/dark and we wouldn’t even know. but a lot of people don’t invest their power in themselves. we don’t know what to do with ourselves really. we’ve come so very far and yet we’re all still just here. it is beautiful and sad and lovely and very hard to fathom for me sometimes.
lol i think i’m just having an existential crisis. it is like this every birthday month. when truly it’s just like any other month. which may be why it is hard to deal with in the first place.
i’m 25, a quarter of a century, as my coworkers so thoughtfully remind me.
anyway, happy belated birthday to me. it’s been a great show of bravery in the face of futility.