one more day and i'm one year older

Each year when I birthday rolls around I feel a bit of anxiety planning something that's 'all about me'. I know that seems surprising because I write about myself each day, but this is like a diary and I write to remember. I love planning events, but events for other people, charity and helping others. It's easier when it's not all about me, although I obviously like the attention. So, when everyone asks 'what are you doing for your birthday?' I rarely have one answer and it usually results in anxiety. I'm gonna be home tomorrow night and have some friends over. I think it would be asshole of me to expect a big shout out when I don't have the cash to pay for it all. Wait till next year...I'll start planning waaaay early to alleviate the last minute anxiety I'm facing now. All week I've been seeing friends and doing fun things. The things is, that's not much different from all the other days. I try to make sure that my friends know I love them and that I am very thankful to have them in my life. This the best birthday gift anyone could ask for. This picture I love.

It's a little bit funny this feeling inside I'm not one of those who can easily hide

I wake up and have a quick shower before getting dressed. I wear pants today. I put on a dress shirt, the tuxedo one and a heart shaped locket without any photos in it. It's long and silver and dangles as I gather my things and reach for my coat. Glasses, keys, phone, camera, do you have everything? I say to myself as I pick up my laptop carry case and head for the elevator. It's not too slow today, I get to the ground and lead the herd our the door to work. I dry off my seat from the rain. I unlock and mount my bicyclette. The air is cool but warm on my face as I photograph the skyline over the lake. I steer towards the office. It's cloudy and grey yet very beautiful. I feel free and alive and barely notice how my body aches for the first two days back on the road. It feels great. I arrive in the village greeted by the hustle and bustle of a place that thrives from nine to five. The train must have just left. There is a pleasant joy in the air; spring is here to stay. Smiling inside, I ride over the old brick road through the train tracks to the back of the factory. For the first time I dream of working in an art factory, my own. I park my bike and head inside. I arrive in ten minutes, this ten minutes glides me through the day. I'm ready to work today. I have the day off tomorrow, it's my 27 birthday: May 8, 2009.

run.on.sentence #328

today i am feeling a bit of a cold and possibly by the news reports with all the tragedy and gun fights that happened last night some others are feeling cold too i'm staying in all day and i'm wearing a pirate shirt and i put the zombie tattoo on again last night because i love it i've got pen and paper and links in my fingers to share and i'm going to write about things that i like because that is what like to do and it makes me happy when i do it and i'm glad to know that other people like reading it because there is nothing more fun than making art and sharing it with people you like andy warhol told me once that being good in business is the best kind of art and i totally agree with that its the best and most free that you can be just creating things and putting it out there