Diary of a Lost Soul — Birthdays are big deals.

Photo by Brooke Lark on Unsplash

It’s my birthday so I’ll scream out my lungs if I will. I know it means a whole lot — like, I am growing old and closer to my grave, I am entering a phase of new expectations, challenges, fears, scars, hurts, celebrations, unsolicited awakenings and realisations, et cetera.

I know also that birthdays are opportunities to understand that right, wrong, good, bad, mistakes et cetera are all illusions. They do not exists and are just a bunch of words chosen by people to help them with category, validation, reward, et cetera. They do not exist.

Dear lost soul, you didn’t make a mistake, you simply struck gold, mine it and do the most with it.