Remarks on 21st Birthday
I'll be honest that piece of literary work was probably not the best ever written. It's been awhile since I wrote anything particularly noteworthy or aesthetically pleasant besides technical essays and personal intentionally pragmatic and journalistic descriptions which are not all that good either, and also awhile since I read any good piece of classic novels with beautiful diction and proper pacing.
I was inspired to attempt writing again thanks to this one blogger under the name not-a-dot whose works I can describe as modern literary pieces with beautiful but bitter prose, wonderful pacing, and mature insightful descriptions of realism. In a gastronomical guise, I'd make it out as cigarette ashes, blood, and cinnamon cane in a minimalistic dish presentation served on a silver platter like what you'd find in a fine-dining restaurant.
Out of everything else, my 21st birthday. Why? It's been one year since the event, the overall outbound experience was unpleasant and probably exacerbated some existing mental issue. One fine shower session and the memories suddenly flood in like the high pressure water bursting through the showerhead, I was overcome by this sense of dread. I thought I would eventually forget it but later on while studying some emotional details further surfaced, so I felt like I had to capture what I thought.
You'd probably get the impression that I was ungrateful for the one moment they seemed to care about me. I can't deny that I appreciate them going out of their way on that rainy day to get a cake and purchase a can of beer and staying up till midnight with me only to wish a happy birthday. It's still months towards the next birthday, and as much as company is appreciated, I think I'd rather spend it in silence with genuinity than in festivity with insincerity.