I thought I could blog during my birthday (September 17) but thanks to my buzzkill of a schedule, I haven’t even had a chance to greet myself on this online diary. But yeah, if you’re interested to know, I just turned 21. It’s my debut (or coarsely in Pinoy lingo, “deboo”). I find growing a year older way too existential for me. Considerably a last-born among my batch, I’ve learned to pinpoint age as a major factor in life: In success, and in tragedy.
That said, I’m pretty content with what I have now. At 21, I am in my second job in the industry that I poured a lot of interest in even back as a grade schooler: Writing. The pay may not be economical in a Third World paradise like the Philippines but, vaguely yet more important, I’ve learned to love what I do. Passion is a valid excuse to go forth amidst expected consequences, and to raise the bar even higher.
I know it’s going to be a longer road to traverse. Mines will be hidden and scattered along the way before I get to even see and hold the things I want in life. Cheers to a rougher road ahead. Happy birthday to me.