pillango

happy birthday, me.

you're 24. you're so far from reaching your dreams. you've reached everything you wanted so far and yet you lack everything others have (and take for granted).

i'm drunk on sangria and on life. it's a lovely feeling. tonight i had plans to go see the arcade fire but scalpers destroyed my dream. and then, along came 2 brilliant and wonderful people who treated me to tapas and 3 litres of sangria. and sangria is top-notch and delicious.

so you're older, you're tired, you're still the same, you're full of zeal, you're alone, and the world is your oyster.

now just one question remains. how do you pry open an oyster that's so humongous and so tightly shut? i suppose that's two quesstions. no matter; your sangria-infused brain lacks the coherence to explore the possibilities. or the ability to spell words correctly.

i want love for my birthday. is that too much to ask?



love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. love never ends.