imma masochist.

there used to be a time when birthdays are considered "happy" to me.
then i grew up and start asking questions.
.
why must we get presents on our birthdays?
why must we celebrate birthdays?
why is there a "sweet 16"?
why is the 21st birthday important?
why should we get the "golden key" on our 21st birthday?
party?for what?
.
you need a lot of people to organize a party.
a lot of people i do not have.
i'm not very well liked in general anyways, so can't complain any further.
you might even need family members for a party.
uncles, aunties, cousins, grandparents.
honestly, i don't have a proper group of relatives that i'm close to.
.
i don't like birthdays.
mine, to be exact.
things don't usually go smoothly on my birthdays, at least the ones that i remember.
something always happens.
something always makes me feel like shit in that period of time.
makes me feel like i should isolate myself from the universe on every october the 23rd.
what's so happy about MY birthday?
because i'm one year closer to the day i die?
yeah, i should be happy about that.
.
when i was young and naive,
any present given to me would make me happy.
then i learnt the fact that to get those "presents",
you need to work hard to earn it.
you need to voice out and say that you WANT something.
ain't nobody cares enough to take note on the little things that makes you happy.
doesn't matter if it's your birthday.
.
it really ruined the meaning of "giving presents" and "receiving presents" to me.
i can't help but question myself about it,all the time..
whether i deserve to have/receive a gift.
or i only get something because i did something to initiate that process of giving and receiving a present.
perhaps it's because since young i was trained to think that rewards must be earned, not expected, nor by merely wishing for it.
.
to be frank, cutting the story short.
my family doesn't value sentimental things like this,
picking out the best and suitable presents...
or doing something out-of-the-ordinary that makes someone feels special.
they can't summon that much effort into stupid tasks like this.
stupid tasks that i just so happened to treasure a lot.
it breaks my heart, receiving angpaos every birthday.
it breaks my heart even more when it's me that told them to give me angpaos, rather than a proper gift.
as painful as it feels, i can't bear receiving another present that looks like something i've already owned, unwrapped, nonchalantly inserted in a Parkson's paperbag, with its receipt still in that bag.
i guess angpao is the best i can get.
.
golden key?
what the fuck is that for?
it's not like i can go out whenever i like, to wherever i like, with whoever i want to,
without needing to explain to anyone.
it's not like i'll be treated more like an adult.
it's not like anyone will trust me anymore than how much they used to trust me.
i still get shit occasionally, without having the privilege to defend my case.
everything bad that happens around me, will still be, ALWAYS, my fault.
because i chose to take part in the unfortunate incident.
my fault.
having shitty luck is never an excuse, because I chose to have shitty luck, apparently.
.
golden keys are symbols of a person's coming of age, and the key to their freedom to make decisions for themselves.
well in my case, obviously that's not gonna happen anytime soon.
.
i can't believe that not only did i failed to save a little time for myself on my birthday,
i'm sobbing like a big-ass toddler while typing this shit out, contemplating and reminiscing on the unfortunate birthdays i've lived through.
and the fact that the sky started to rain heavily makes me feel like i'm one sad-as-fuck bitch that even the Gods are crying for me.
.
Happy belated 21st birthday to my-fucking-unworthy-self.