In Continuum.

Torn Blue Jeans

Hey man, it's been a while
Do you remember me?
When I hit the streets I was 17
A little wild, a little green

As the last minutes of the 28th of June ticked down, I sat before the computer with a bowl of noodle made from leftover food from today's lunch and watched Munich all over again. Once again, I remained oblivious to the fact that my birthday was around the corner, my twenty-first birthday. Like all the other twenty birthdays that I've had, this particular day no longer excites me more than the other days. Maybe the fact that this year's birthday happens to be on a Friday may boost its significance somehow. Pitching the birthday tent next to the weekend one is like having a beggar set up his floor mat next to a Broadway theater. It just makes him a little more glamorous than the others who are cowering in the shady alleys.

So as the digital clock in the bottom right hand corner struck twelve, the cellphone messages and the MSN ones came flooding in one by one. It became so busy that I had to multi-task between the keyboard and the phone, which became quite a hassle at the end. However, I made a point to reply to all of them, making sure that I do not sound like I just took their messages for granted. After all, despite feeling little about my own birthday, there is a certain warm and fuzzy feeling involved in being remember by new friends and the ones of old - especially the ones whom you have not talked to for the longest time. For a moment there, it wasn't about feeling old or getting older, but rather being loved and remembered.

I've been up and down and in between
After all these years and miles of memories
I'm still chasing dreams
But I ain't looking over my shoulder

Perhaps this shut-mouthed attitude about my birthday is due to what people around you may potentially do to you on such a day. Like the marriage entry I posted a while ago, people also see birthdays as the only day they can do all sorts of humiliating things to you and you are not supposed to hold grudges about it ten years down the road. So they devise plans and come up with ridiculous things to do to you on this very special day of the year, within the time span of twenty-four hours. So you start to draw up your escape route from these humiliation-deprived vultures at school, to try to avoid them for as long as possible. If you can't avoid them completely, make sure you do not bump into them when they are in a group. The following is what happens to a birthday boy at school.

The tradition started with the rugby players, and it was well accepted by the other boys in school to do the same to the others. A horde of buffed up, muscular boys would march into the canteen at school singing on top of their lungs. A path would be cleared for them to march through, and at the end of the cleared path would be the helpless body of the birthday boy. It wouldn't matter if you struggled or not, because against the might of the whole team of rugby players, it was better if you remained still and cooperated. So the birthday boy would be lifted up from his feet and carried by the other boys down to the field where the rugby poles were and 'pole' the birthday boy. By 'pole', I mean to spread his legs open and ram his crotch against the metal pole until he screams in agony and pain. That was the birthday ritual in school, and the chief reason why I selectively forgot my own birthdays when I was back there. It wasn't something I wanted to risk anybody knowing, truth to be told.

I like the bed I'm sleeping in
It's just like me, it's broken in
It's not old - just older
Like a favorite pair of torn blue jeans
This skin I'm in it's alright with me
It's not old - just older

It wasn't any better in the army, but worse. Throwing a guy's crotch against a metal pole no longer interested anybody, because the fun usually lasts as long as the guy is able to take the excruciating pain. And to have the birthday boy fully clothed takes away half the fun that it should have been. Which was why the tradition was never brought forward into the confines of a military camp. However, with the ladies a million miles away and the birthday boy trapped within the fences of the camp, there were more things people could do to one another on their birthdays - another reason why I never told anybody about it.

I remember the times when a bunch of different platoon were involved in the birthday of one single platoon mate of mine. Let's just say that he was a very popular guy amongst the boys, and everybody just desperately wanted to see him naked. So he was pinned down to the crowd as everybody swarmed towards his half naked body to smear camouflage cream and toothpaste all over the guy's back. Then it came the flour and the bathing powder, following by a healthy dosage of ice-cold water from the freezer downstairs. Throughout the torturous process, there would be videos capturing both violence and nudity, and the constant begging of the victim are usually unheeded by the crowd around. And the end of these birthday bash aren't usually the end, as there are usually part twos and threes afterwards, and it stretches on deep into the night at times.

It's good to see your face
You ain't no worse for wear
Breathing that California air

So you see, in the course of keeping my birthday discreet, I managed to convince myself not to remember the day itself. After four years of training, I have successfully blocked out the 29th of June from both my mental calendar and the ones on my working desk and shelf. The same thing happened to me last year when I was sitting in a coffee shop at 3am, clad in my army uniform and drinking ice-milo. It didn't occur to me that it was my birthday three hours after midnight, and it was then when I sang a little birthday song to myself under my breath, afraid that someone may hear it and then remind the others. Who knows what kind of torture I could've gotten myself into for singing a decibel louder? And you think that celebrating your birthday alone is bad, celebrating with a bunch of army boys is so much worse.

The year before the last, I had my birthday spent in a ditch I dug for myself. We were supposed to be protecting an axis - or road junction - at that time, and it was probably one of the most tiring outfield I remember. Digging through the layers of soil and rocks, the spade that I was using made sparks fly in the night, as it scraped against the hard rocks embedded in the ground. I dug up so many rocks that night that I formed a circle around me when the officer came. He asked if I was trying to drive away evil spirits with the rocks placed in a strange pattern. I remember telling him that I was digging a grave for myself, and that the rocks would be up for sale in the morning. I was that aloof and lightheaded at that time, and my uniform was soaked with my own sweat. Sitting in the bottom of the pit and feeling the moist of the soil seeping through my underwear, I looked at the glittering city lights in the distance and the sparse population of stars above. It was the first birthday spent in the army then, first birthday spent in the fields. And it was a beautiful night to boot, aside from the bushes and trees with bugs crawling all over. It was a beautiful night, the first night of my nineteenth birthday back then. And I sang to myself a little tune, and made a wish as I saw a shooting star cross the sky, and disappeared into the dawning sky.

When we took on the world
When we were young and brave
We got secrets that we'll take to the grave
And we're standing here shoulder to shoulder

Two years later and sitting before the computer, I am spending yet another birthday alone. This time, for the first time in years, in the comfort of my room and the loving friends around me. Not to say that the friends that I made in camp weren't loving enough. It's just that, the friends I have now are not going to strip my down and take videos of me on my birthday for sure. I feel loved around them, and safe at the same time - but most of all loved, really.

You expect a physical change in you, to have your skin turn loose before your eyes in the mirror. To have blue veins show on your ankle and feet and your hair turn white instantaneously. Of course, none of those happened two hours ago when I was in front of the mirror, brushing my teeth. Some of my friends asked if I feel any different being twenty-one, but my answer to them is short and simple," Not old, just older". Because really, it doesn't feel very much different from being myself a day ago. It's not like humans go through the same process as a caterpillar, turning into a butterfly. Or a werewolf tearing off his human skin to reveal its true-self underneath the full moon. The change in all humans are gradual and slow, and we are probably not going to notice the change until we are freely accepted into a movie rated R21, or into a club that allows only customers above the age of 21.

I like the bed I'm sleeping in
It's just like me, it's broken in
It's not old - just older
Like a favorite pair of torn blue jeans
This skin I'm in it's alright with me
It's not old - just older

I didn't have a cake today, or candles to celebrate my birthday. In fact, I am the only person awake right now, with the rest of the family somewhere between the reality and their own individual dreamland. All I had today was a mentioning of my birthday over dinner, and the cups filled with water and tea were raised over our heads. A plate of crab was served, and that was as far as the celebration went for me today over dinner. The crab didn't taste particularly good, or the other dishes that were brought on one by one. However, this is the kind of birthday celebration I am used to, the kind that I am more familiar with. After all, I am a man of simplicity, a modern minimalist. So a mentioning would be more than enough, and anything else would be considered a party of sorts.

Speaking of party, I have yet to regret my decision of not throwing one. I still retain the idea that it is better to celebrate it with small groups of friends over a period of a week or so. I get more dinner treats, I get more exclusive one on one meeting with friends, and I am not going to have to worry if they enjoyed themselves during the party or not. Besides, the clearing up at the end is going to be such a troublesome process, and that is not to mention the invitations and all the prior preparations.

I'm not old enough to sing the blues
But I wore the holes in the soles of these shoes
You can roll the dice 'til they call your bluff
But you can't win until you're not afraid to lose

In retrospect, my twenty years on this good earth has been a good one - good, but not great. At least not yet. I've wanted to do a lot of things in the past, a lot of things before I turn twenty. But time after time, ideas were being placed aside or swept under the rug, or simply postponed till a date nobody knows when. Plans were scrapped and forgotten, and I was left at the end of many dreams and hopes - in regrets and disappointments. I can't say that I have fulfilled everything that I have set out to do in the past twenty years, nor can I say that I am satisfied with whom I have become. However, the new beginning of my life is already looking so much better than the twenty years that I've had.

I guess, what I want to say on my birthday speech - since I haven't got a party to announce my thoughts - is that I treasure my family and friends more than anything else. Friends who have come into my life in the past twenty years, and friends who have left - they all became a part of me one way or another. I cannot say that all of them were friendly people, or if they were in any way grateful of my existence. However, all of them - all of you - helped to shape me into who I am and what I am. It could not have been possible to live alone without the company of you, admirable people standing by me throughout the obstacles. I know less than half of you half as well as I should like, but I love all of you more than what you all truly deserve. I've been a very blessed person, to have you guys in my life. And to the ones who have been sticking with me, thank you. Thank you for being...whoever you are - you. It couldn't have been possible, and I am truly - grateful.

To another beautiful year ahead, till my twenty-second birthday.

Cheers.

Well, I look in the mirror
I don't hate what I see
There's a few more lines staring back at me
Now the nights has grown a little colder

Hey man, I gotta run
Now you take care
If you see coach T. Tell him I've cut my hair
I've kept my faith
I still belive I'm just...