It was my birthday last weekend, yes I am born the day after the "Day of the Dead". My celebrations almost always involve creepy costumes, figures of questionable morals and many sheets of black crepe paper. The upcoming birthday was one I particularly didn’t want to celebrate. Although keeping with tradition of me never really enjoying my birthday, the transition from 19 years to 20 years was more distasteful than the rest. The ripeness of the age made my tongue recoil, like remembering the jokes of an old boyfriend.

I wasn’t sure why this celebration of birth came with particular annoyance.

Conclusion 1: I hadn’t done anything, I was the same person I was last year. Consideration, no this didn’t fall into place, if I compared things, they were very different . I was very different, I hadn’t wasted anytime. Perhaps not.

Conclusion 2: It was the whole change from ‘teen’ to adult. Consideration, this didn’t feel right either. Initially I thought the answer was here, but I was wrong. In fact I was ready to move on from the last phase of life. I thought I had completed it, really worn it down into the ground, and now needed something new.

Conclusion 3: The weather was the key. It was a stormy night. The air was thick with sweat, incense and the smell of supermarket cologne. I sat there with my legs on my desk, reading while I drank orange juice from the carton. The back of my knees were itchy. The cool shower I had taken minutes earlier was stuffed in the corner with my towel. The hot rain drooled down my window. Either side of my forehead, a beat began, my eyes ached from the afternoons harsh daylight sun. Enough with the description, I dressed and met the sweaty night.

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