Note: Blogging since 2008, and I’ve never written a birthday post for myself. So, this is pretty much just me talking to myself. Psssss.. I’d let you listen too.
On the eve of my birthday, I laid in bed just wildly imagining if my life would take a drastic turn as clock ticked to mark my birthday. You see, as much engineering school teaches one to think with logic and facts, I sometimes (okay, more times that I’d like to admit la) fail at it. I’m one of those delusional types who let her mind wander nonsensically, and reading fictions has only worsened it. I diligently set my alarm at 6.15 a.m., so that I don’t miss out on the exact moment I turn 24.
The alarm rang. It was dark, and nothing seems to be happening. I rubbed around my to find my glasses, because maybe my poor vision was distracting that ‘something’ from happening. I put my glasses on, and still, nothing happened. I just twisted and turned until I was completely awake. And then reality hit me. I was taking this little game far too seriously, wasn’t I? It really didn’t mean much, to want to be awake at the exact moment I turned 24. I just shook the thought out of my mind, quite literally so, and resumed my slumber.
Reminiscing all the above after about 2 weeks since it happened, it dawns upon me how much I’m still so same and different at the same time. I still make up little pretence games, get paranoid over unanswered phone calls (limited persons only) and tear up when I’m actually angry. But, I’ve also changed so much!
10 years back, I was at least 15 kilograms lighter, and thought I’d never grow my hair beyond my collar (so that I won’t have to tie it). That obviously changed, because, now, I am at my (psssss.. *whispers*) heaviest weight and longest hair ever since Amma pushed me out. I’m far more emotional these days, when back in the days, I couldn’t care less. I used to have many friends, but I barely made an attempt then. Now, I sometimes make an attempt, but I have far less friends. What used to be limitless hopes and exciting dreams are now trimmed bucket lists, hidden somewhere in a box on my bookshelves.
Okay, maybe this all sounds too miserable now. I’m actually doing fine. It’s just that all the birthday game got into my head a lot more than little. This is simply a self reflection. A reminder to myself to stop spending too much time with my BFF whose name is Sleep. To those of you eavesdropping, let this string of words remind you how all those dreams and hopes you have for yourself still could happen. You just got to start doing something. Even if it means writing a long blog post that probably wouldn’t even mean much to others.
P/s: The last time I saw myself in the mirror, I still don’t look like Rihanna. How long you reckon the full transition will take?