it seems like every year i keep thinking that my brithday should be some sort of climax or even a celebration of the year passed, but it's always painfully mundane or even worse than most other days. but the day always comes and i'm always in the same place. i've been away from this town twice on my birthday in my whole life and both of those were in burbank and both were the best birthdays i've ever had (the dukes of hazards birthday cake may be at the same level, but it was so long ago i only really remember the cake and not the day). i've learned not to expect things and to even have a general and secret loathing for people who expect for everyone to treat them like gods on their birthdays because mine always seem to pass with a whimper.

i don't think i've asked for anything on my birthday for the past 10 or so years and if i have it's been some idealistic wish and not even a practical money bought gift. it's good that i haven't asked for anything because i generally don't get anything at all. not even for the burbank birthdays (to be fair, my drinks were payed for - though i payed for the room at the radisson that everyone so cheerily trashed). the best thing i can remember getting on my birthday was a hand made necklace a year ago (which was broken and is sadly lost in the fabric of space and time).

but all of this has consistently made me a bitter old man, cursing the days up and down... and it's been like this since i can remember. i dread my birthdays for so many reasons. i'm cursed, i must be. i'm most certainly getting old and senile. listen to the song i just recorded; me babbling bitterly. something about me being diluted (it's such a vague metaphor about me being weak, i suppose) and the elementary school crying about how no one likes me for who i am. i'm somehow caught in the middle of it all, 23 years old and trying to mediate between my 10 and 80 year old jacobs.

i'm not sure what will happen on this birthday (started roughly an hour ago pacific standard time) but i hope that it's magic. literally magic. i want to see sparkles on my forehead as i slowly wake up on a cloud whisking me away to some distant place where people love me and they want everything that i have to offer and it's all more than enough. i want huge feasts with beautifuly prepared food. i want to finally fucking laugh again. and i want this birthday to last 50-60 years. maybe more.

i have a feeling it won't be a climax. i have a feeling it will be where the hill meets the bottom of the ocean. because, i've apparently already been to the top and i'm getting close to the only place left to go afterwards. it was a goddamn foothill.

happy birthday anyway.