Birthdays have an intrinsic buoyancy, Marcus, elevating us through the sheer vanity of having a whole day centred around our existence.
Birth deserves reminders and celebration, it is, after all, a game of chance. Death on the other hand, is a certainty…
And yet every birthday only takes us closer to the inevitable.
It is nature’s way, that randomness gravitates towards a single truth.
Then that actualisation will always come too late.
The joy is in knowing that you are constantly moving towards it. Happy birthday.
a single feather
falling out of the sky
an epilogue without a story