That would be a photo of myself and my niece this last Friday, April 10th, when I “celebrated” my 23rd birthday. I don’t know if it’s a culture thing that’s only present on the Balkan, but around here in your early twenties it’s expected that you get your Uni degree, you find yourself a permanent job, and you get engaged or married so you can settle down with a family. For better or for worse, I can say I’ve done none of that, but it doesn’t bother me. If all goes well, I’ll graduate this June. On the job front, we’ll see how things go eventually. And on the relationship part, why rush anything?
The only things I consider important in life are those each individual person wants to do. Things that make you happy, things that fill your soul, things that keep you thinking and improving as a human being. If everyone else is happy with getting those things by the age of 20-something, then I’m glad they’ve found joy and I wish them all the best in life. I can only hope they would understand that as much as we’re all the same in many ways, we’re completely different in other ways and we can’t all lead the same life. That would be ridiculously mundane and likely very harmful for humanity’s progress and evolution over the years.
But I’m not asking for any permission or acceptance. Currently I consider myself happy, and that’s the only stamp of approval I need. Whether others question my choices or give me side-way glances doesn’t matter to me, we all make sacrifices in life and I guess that will be one of mine. Heck, if that’s the only price for happiness, sign me up for a lifetime supply of it, I will take as much as I can if it means extra happiness.
On the other hand, it’s been one crazy busy week with the Easter holidays, this birthday, family and relatives visiting, Camp NaNoWriMo, and all sorts of other things. Which isn’t necessarily good, because when it comes to birthdays I pretty much share the same thoughts as Ron Swanson.
“I don’t like loud noises and people making a fuss. And I especially don’t like people celebrating because they know a piece of private information about me. Plus, the whole thing is a scam: birthdays were invented by Hallmark to sell cards.” ~ Ron Swanson, Parks and Recreation