Diaries Of An Introvert

Birthdays

On account of my seventeenth birthday. (Today !!). I've decided that I'm gonna be up and honest about they actually mean to me. I love my birthday. I hate my birthday. I love to hate it. I'm the kind of person who's excited about it when it's 243 days away; and yet a day before I am anxious as hell and breaking out into nerves as if I was heading towards my own prosecution.On that account if I ever was to be prosecuted I'd probably die from the fear of it rather than the actual deed.

The reason as to why I would hate it is pretty simple and totally non philosophical like the "growing older " drama that a lot of people believe in. I am gonna be brutally honest when I say this, I'm not a popular person. Well, that's an understatement considering i spent the first three years of my schooling in Bangalore in an isolated loner phase. Nevertheless I did make amends to it last year considered. So, long thing short; people maybe aware of my existence but they don't know me.And even though I don't particularly care about the popularity a tiny part, scratch that, a considerable part of my heart wishes that I had made more friends and that to not be jealous over the lives that are portayed via Instagram or worse Facebook.

On to cheerier things the people that do know me, love me. It's a very heart warming feeling,the love given by people. The kind that brought tears to my eyes even though I didn't want to cry.Strange isn't it, that people don't appreciate things of actual importance like these instead of obsessing over boys and skinny/ muscled figures.

The period of isolation did teach me one thing however and that is to be a great judge of character. I've long since identified people for what they are under the mask of fake macho and sarcastic comments. You know your value in the person's life only in situations where they don't need you. Every one loves a person who is kind and helpful but to expect to receive the same treatment in return is utter idiocy. A wise lesson I've learned over a period of time.

So you get 500+ wishes on your birthday but if they are any time after 1 am or more it's only via Facebook. So do not give importance just because a tiny notification on their screen reminded them to wish you in the first place. The real people start with the wishes way ahead and are the only ones who actually pick up the phone and call you, in the age of WhatsApp and dms/ pms.

So to the people who have their phones surgically attached to your arms. Aside from making the little indentation on your pinky finger a would be dominant gene.

Nobody gives a damn about you when push comes to shove and that isolation is a factor that ought to be more permanently ingrained.