On this date of yours, you’re near to death yet you learn how to be alive. Take a moment to look into a brief of your life,
have you found the meaning of it?
or, you just found out that in the end, your existence is the meaning itself for your life.
In the end, it’s not only a mere flesh, a dead body. But filled with soul, passionate and ravishing one. Bright enough to shine, even brighter until it makes the soul of yours itself gets blind of its beauty. You’re essentially perfect.
Days by days become Hell for you, which makes you always say that:
Only my existence that keeps you alive.
But my love, today, and the rest, it’s yours. Your existence that keeps you alive. You spark your own flame and make it burning to give you the feeling of alive, burn the Hell of your days as well.
Happy birthday, my sanity. My glory. My pride. I hope nothing but the best for you. Anything that you wish, will always be the most exclusive prayer of mine to God. Hope this day becomes your blessing. Your present. Your own rage. It’s your revival now and forever.
