Ctrl+Z. Ctrl+Me.

"Just living is not enough", said the butterfly, "one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower."
— Hans Christian Andersen.

well, maybe i did and i missed it.

It is said that your life flashes before your eyes just before you die. That is true, it's called Life.

- Terry Pratchett.


She never really liked birthdays. A few bad birthday experiences from her childhood negated all the good ones. She was never trusted with the candles; she was never trusted with the knife; she was never trusted even on her own birthday. The least that could happen was that she felt happy during her birthday, genuinely happy. The least that could happen was to be given trust on her birthday, not a whole load of expectations. She was growing older, and supposedly wiser, not crawling back into her mother's womb. Perhaps she couldn't be trusted with a lighter, but the least she could be given was the trust that she was growing up, and she wanted to be happy.

She never really liked birthdays. She never liked the idea of superficial people standing around her in her house, at her birthday party, cheering and laughing and offered fake greetings of "congratulations on your birthday and growing older" or "hope you will be older and wiser". She didn't need all that. She hated the idea of people laughing and enjoying themselves at a party she herself wasn't laughing or enjoying herself in. She hated the idea of having to entertain everyone, even if they didn't bother to initiate. She hated the idea of having to include everyone, even if they were hiding in a corner throughout the entire thing. She hated the idea of expectations thrown on her even on her birthday.

She never really liked birthdays. It was just another day of the year. It was a day, like any other day. There was no need to special, or have everyone treat it like it was special. There was no need for a celebration. There was not a need to make a big deal out of. There was never a need to treat it as a day for someone to vent their anger out on you just because it's not their birthday. There was never a need to be a victim of a narcissist. It was just another day, just like any other day or the year. Or perhaps it somehow lost its meaning as she grew older.

She never really liked birthdays. She was growing older, yet unappreciated. Wasn't growing meant to be given more opportunities, to nurture a character, a sensibility, a maturity of some level, or of some sort? She was growing older, yet she was getting darker. She felt under appreciated, misunderstood. She carried pills in her bag, which she took on her birthday, and yet she was misunderstood about them before she ever got a chance to explain herself. She never got a chance to explain those white and blue pills, yet she was being forced into more expectations. She never looked forward to her birthday. It seemed like a vicious cycle - a cycle every year with added load of expectations, some of which she could not handle on her own. This cycle eventually made her mind race, giving herself even more expectations of herself. So tell me, what exactly is a birthday?

What exactly is a happy birthday?


Counting the number of candles, she was hoping it would be an even number.
It was never always an even number.

Smiling for the camera, she wondered if her picture would be like-worthy.
It didn't quite matter,  even the candid shots would be worth it.

Scrutinizing the details of the cake, she still cringed at the thought of "birthday".
It was just another day of looking happy for everyone.

Blowing out the candles, she looked up at the handsome old man holding the camera.
It smelt good - the after-scent of the burning candles, and the smell of his soap.


She smiled at the tiny details, contemplated contentment, and shrugged at her silly thoughts.


In such an ugly way,
something so beautiful.

I know she knows I'm not fond of asking,
true or false it may be she's still out to get me.

Hold on to this kite,
just don't let me down.

Oh,you're so naive yet so
How could this be done?



too busy with a mind on clever rhymes.


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