alex in wonderland

I have a library book to return. The format of the post below me is completely messed up and it's going to bother me for a while but I don't really feel like taking the three seconds to fix it. My birthday is in T-minus two days and I am calmly freaking the fuck out. Somewhere around your sixteenth birthday you realize how fast time is moving and how your mother used to be sixteen once, and how you'll be forty one day. I get into such dramatically sad moments for absolutely no reason. Note, that this moments always occur on days where I've been home all day. Apparently, being bored and stuck in my room warrants me to act out original scenes that should have been in 1960's romances. (Also note, that I do find myself watching romantic, classic movies on these days.) I have the need to be surrounded by the few people I care about day in and day out. Isn't it weird how we can so openly accept the flaws and mistakes of some people without even the slightest complaint? Or, honestly, without even realizing anything bad happened. And I'm not talking about flaws that can hurt you or anything, like someone being mean or ignoring you and you still accepting them. I don't know. Most people irritate me in the most absurd ways, so it's kind of weird how I managed to find even one person who I can thoroughly enjoy 100% of the time. Urgghh what does any of that mean. Birthdays make me depressed, sad face. Meeeep. Or the universe can be really great and send me exactly what I just needed. Blah.