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Twenty Nine

You’ve had a hell of a year. An introspective summary would reveal a messy graph, the peaks and valleys fluctuating unpredictably and to asynchronous frequencies. Somewhere in between your serial conquests and breathless finales, there were surreptitious glimpses of doubtful pauses. Concocting that magic cocktail of fun and pain is a skill which you have yet to master. I have a nagging suspicion that you’re biting off more than you can chew. Your blunders and disappointments were a tad too abundant to be attributed to mere inexperience. But you know what? That’s the price of venturing out of your comfort zone. You have always been way too cautious. And frankly, your obsessively meticulous execution of balance preservation is boring and devoid of meaningful significance. Fuck that. Your callow attempts in trying to establish what is perhaps bigger than yourself is probably futile and foolish, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you? Just be mindful of the crippling effect of sheer bravado and you’ll be fine. You’re eating and feeling healthier now. Keep that up. Make time for your family and friends, they are needy because they love you. Create and participate in good madness, you have someone beside you who’s as willing as you are. Please only those who matter. Be firm, but retain your candidness. Have empathy and be kind. Dream dangerously and outrageously, but don’t make dreams your master. Think freely and deeply, but don’t make thoughts your aim. You’re in the last year of your twenties, and I can’t think of a better time to tell you this: you’re no longer young enough to claim you know everything. Here’s to a year filled with an abundance of spirited moments, thoughtful ventures, cathartic discoveries, serendipitous joy and inspirational mistakes. Now drink up.

Happy birthday. :)

 

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