Monday, September 24, 2012

bday





The dress was made of live flowers, and literally fell to pieces along the runway, a symbol of decay : Alexander McQueen s/s 2007.
The bday cometh. And there is nothing I can do to stop it. And as much as I try to hide away from it tomorrow, my lovely friends (and strangers alike) refuse to indulge me. Let me say that I am truly grateful to you for wrenching me out of my bed and forcing me to celebrate my name day. Every birthday has been full of love and unexpected surprises, and without any expectation. I am always happy to get what I can get. So thank you thank you thank for loving a wretch like me. 

Moments like these are the ones that you will think back on when you're an old soul full of fine wrinkled memories, laugh lines creeping from your eyes. Days like these are tantamount of the long forgotten ruins of your past, their structure remaining, life still clinging to each fallen column. They will excavate it one day, marking footprints and leftover artifacts of love, cataloging each instance. You have lived a full life, they will conclude. Nothing was wasted.




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