holding up a boombox into the sky.

it's crazy how we all have birthdays. Every day of every year belongs to someone. they're really truly lovely, birthdays, and entire day for a one little person just to be able to celebrate their existence, I've been craving a birthday lately. sometimes when people hi about forty they start to deny their birthdays. They say that its no big thing, its just another day. No bad wrong. it is not just another day it is your birthday, the one day of all that marks when you breathed your first breathe and opened your eyes and began this life you've been given. it's a really special day to be taken so lightly. my teacher turned 36 yesterday and in class she was telling us all the good things about thirty six and how cool it is. thirty six, you are 18 times 2, you are 6 squared, you are 12 sets of 3, you are growing wise but not yet cold, you are dancing on age without losing your balance. there are good things about every age. Great things.
when someone turns a year, stories are told, a song is sung, cake is baked, gifts are given, but also it's kind of like taking a really big step. Or finally finishing a really long lap. going to sleep and knowing that when you wake up you'll be a whole new age is one of those feelings that deserve a whole big day. When I was little on my birthdays people would always ask me how it felt to be five or nine or thirteen. I always said the same, which is both melancholy and glorious. age isn't so powerful that it alters a whole person, it's a change without much of a ripple effect. You're the same you you have been just with a new number pinned to your being. perhaps that's why birthdays are often overlooked, people deem them as a simple number when really they are a beginning and an end. Like putting on new shoes then contiuing on the journey. Birthdays are really rather nice to have around.

of time, six weeks til the sun gets high.

when i was a little girl, my brother and i would spend hours outside trying to find this one berry bush. some times they were perfect. black and purple and lovely and thriving. ripe, ya know. they were ready and that's when they were best. but when they weren't ready, it was quite unpleasant. you never want to eat wild berries before they are ready. you might be ready, but they might not be. and ever though you are, if you just show them patience, in the end it will be better for the both of you. this applie to lots of things. peaches, for example. any fruit really, but peaches have my favor. the best peach is the one that is ripe and ready for you. they sit on the counter for days, taunting you with their color. their color leads you to believe that they are aboslutely ready, but biting into them you realise the opposite. think about love. chasing after love before it's ready to be found and enjoyed will only end with a tummy ache and a rotting love with a big bite taken out. or maybe thats peaches. close to the same. we are ready for so much, we are youth. we want everything in life to be right now. but lots of that everything is not ripe and ready to happen. wait. the word is agonizing, yes, but wait. loss only remains until love arrives. furthermore, peaches, like many things in life, grow to be ready in their own time. peaches are in control. they won't wait for you to eat them. when they are ripe, you take that peach and make the best of it. the same goes for love. when love is ready and around, you take that love. accept that it may not always be there, but love it deeply none the less. it's day will come, the peach the love eh ou whatayer you make of this. the day will come.