One and Seven

I did not realize the day to come until my family (parents and a brother, not less) congratulates me at 00:00 AM. Heck, I thought much about tomorrow just a few hours ago and it came even before I realize in full consciousness.

Maybe it was because I do not really want it. Or, at least, not expecting it to come this fast.

One and seven. Two digits of number which considered as sacred for it has become some kind of mark of adulthood. I do think in some ways that might be true; for a legal age to be recognized as a Indonesian (by having identity card) is seventeen. One and seven.

One may celebrate this age in full appreciation, as we know in “sweet-seventeen party” in glamour, while others might prefer some contemplations or simple appreciation. But I am not. I do not appreciate this day of birth as much as others would do.

For me, the mark of seventeen means more weight of responsibilities to lift. You know the things; technical stuffs as driving license to moral responsibilities as an adult. People will expect you to act as an adult, no more childishness. And now, were I ever murder some random people out there, I would be thrown in jail, a real jail, not the children one. Full of criminals, not to mention homosexuals. Duh.

Well, the chance is possibly small, but just in case. Who knows if some random terrorist organization abducted and brainwashed me for their toy to blow the Embassy of USA up?

Talking about birthdays will always lead me to talk about coin of fate. Surviving the day until this second means someone out there — might be God or might be my scientifically healthy body (or might be just my luck) — have been letting me to breath this long though asthma still nests in my lungs. In other way, surviving it means walking closer to death. 

I am not scared of anything (in this context), but I suppose things like this should be done in more… pleasant way. Not with any huge glamorous party, instead, I prefer something which could left impression. Perhaps one which can be remembered until I saw The Death on my deathbed. For that complete perfection, I hoped the seven and one numbers would come more late than it would be, but sadly time won’t wait. It passes on like it ever care for anyone.

Well, I see no other things I could say, unlike I did on last year. I just want to thank my family, for caring and spending their whole time for someone like me. My friends, for spicing up this pointless life (afterlife is pointless after all) with all your controversial yet supportive behaviours. My beloved equipment; my old Nokia 6630, eyeglasses, and Toshiba Satellite M300. And you, whoever you are, who has spend your time to read my blog and drop a comment, I do appreciate your doing.

…the paragraph above sounds cliche. But oh well. What done is done, and unfortunately I am not able to turn back the time. May it let me to be wise, to be useful, to contribute to the society.

It is 1:11 AM now.

God bless you.