of all the days of the year, i think i hate my birthday the most. they used to be such fun, i ate cake and brought a gaggle of friends to the house and everything was great. but as my birthday draws nearer and nearer, i find myself just staring into the mirror and thinking "congratulations, you're older." it's like getting an award for breathing, except now that i'm older and the things i want cost more than the things i used to want, it's more like just breathing. i'm 21 in ten days. by all accounts 21's supposed to be the big one, right? the last big important birthday, the last one you actually look forward to. but i feel like it's just going to pass by like any other day. what an anticlimax.