the problem with

posted by (anonymous) at 05:15pm on 28/08/2004
moping about one's birthday is that it sort of implicitly tells everyone older to piss off and die.

I know that that's not the intent. It's a cry for reassurance, comfort, joy, faith, hope, and good feelings.

But, really, if being twelve is so awful, how is fifteen supposed to feel? Or if 36 is so bad, what about 45? Etc.

Moral: it all goes on, and often better stuff awaits. The unlooked for stuff is particularly good.

Signed,
the non-anonymous Gary Farber who fucking fucking fucking fucking hates LiveJournal with a fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking passion.
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