Thanks to everyone who took time to send my miserable ass your kind birthday wishes.
I always knew I'd become a fully-functioning and responsible adult. As I now approach my thirties, to my horror I now realize how widly fucking wrong I was and that there's no real adults anywhere in the world, only overgrown children pummeled into a submissive shuffle through life by confusion that only piles on as time goes by like thick heaps of mashed potato until it's physically impossible to continue wading through it and it swallows you whole, suspending you in mid-air until you slowly and painfully wither away like in that movie The Blob.
Then when their kids are old enough to ask mom and dad what the fuck is going on, the parents only get annoyed because they themselves are already completely exhausted having spent most of their lives trying to make sense of shit and failing miserably time and time again, and the kids get annoyed with the parents because mom and dad appear so stupidly accepting of the bullshit all around them that the kids assume their parents are too uncool and close-minded to even bother questioning it.
Still, plenty to be happy about, like spending over a decade in prison. Did I say prison? I meant grade school, where I fell in love with mandatory early-morning attendance five days a week, constantly being told what to think and do, daily homework, having my work, sometimes passion projects constantly graded because I gave such an enormous fuck what letter grade one man-child in an adult costume in the world equated with my abilities, having my sense of humor, my most prized possession constantly suppressed for being -- in hilarious irony -- associated with immaturity, and the general intolerable boredom. Oh yeah, and being frequently bullied and fat-shamed, often to tears, and occasional emotional abuse from the staff that still haunts me today. That was awesome. School's so fucking awesome, I can't understand why so many kids don't care for it, or why the questionnaires I fill out for my doctor keep suggesting a moderate-to-severe mood disorder. Weird!
But good news, I'm no longer fat-shamed! I'm actually getting plenty of exercise alongside so much of the world's population trying to claw my way out of a monstrous pit of debt thanks to the tuition of another half-decade spent going right the fuck back to school after graduating high school, unfortunately in large part due to an archaic, destructive and worst of all perpetuated understanding of how success is both perceived and achieved in a society that's rapidly developing thanks to the exponential sophistication of technology that old fucks in administrative positions everywhere are too fucking old and smelly to understand or even care to. They should all just stop showing up for work, stay the fuck in bed, switch on Lifetime and stop pissing off almost everybody on the planet daily. But what do I know? Like I said, I'm really just an overgrown and increasingly baffled child like everyone else.
I thought the lie that is adulthood might refine my dietary preferences at the very least, that I might eat salads everyday whilst wearing turtle-neck sweaters, but even at twenty-eight I'd stuff sugar-coated candy in my mouth for breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday with ecstasy and walk around in superhero pyjamas if it didn't mean fatal societal rejection or dropping dead at twenty-five.
I might be horribly bitter and angry about my experiences in education, but at least I chose the film industry as a career choice which is completely free of stress and ego.
Thanks again to everyone for reminding me to take a day to smile anyway.