As we are getting older, we will realized that there is a room, maybe a space, where it is locked and only you and yourself who can enter it.
Well, I don’t know. Maybe it is just me.
Wonder why I don’t give a shit anymore about the dramas happening out there and prefer to mind my own business.
Wonder why I prefer to get my own shit done rather than being a drama queen, seeking attention from people around.
Wonder why I’m not into gossiping anymore. Because I feel sad how people could talk about their own buddies and reveal their negativity instantly.
Wonder why I’m more into a deep conversation that would surprise everyone who listens rather than involve in a small talk.
Wonder why I’m way more comfortable with a few close friends rather than being a social butterfly like the old days.
Wonder why now I could be the last person in my circle who get the news spreading.
That doesn’t make me less social. I’m just enjoying myself being an audience.
So here I am. Living my third year of my twenties.
Anyway, birthday for me is not an extraordinary thing. It’s because of the family tradition that never exaggerating the birthday event. We keep it modest with no celebration, even no cake or gift, just wishes and prayers.
But it’s inevitable that I feel so jubilant when receiving the birthday wishes from my lovely friends, yet I feel sad when my close friends (at least those whom I consider as close) didn’t congratulate me. It’s a natural feeling, I guess. Isn’t it? Nah, Nevermind.
I couldn’t thank my fellas enough for every wishes and prayers I got. Couldn’t be more grateful than this. That’s what matter the most.
22. Old enough to make the right decision, young enough to make the wrong ones.