[Jestor]

Birthdays and I have an ambivalent relationship. I love them even as I loathe them.

My affection for these days of world entrance lies chiefly in the uniqueness of their celebration of the individuals appearing on that day. Birthday cake is also quite delicious. Ah, and of course, I must confess that I love purchasing and giving gifts.

But why then, the hatred of them, and why then, this stilted stream of consciousness that hurts the mind-reader to peruse?

Because birthdays signify the passage of time and the unavoidable march to mortality. Would that it was possible to achieve the Holy Grail of immortality, that we might never die. Then, then could I fully and completely enjoy birthdays, rather than be haunted in the dying hours of the night as I am now, the moon disquieting in its ghostly rainment of white.

I do not wish to die... do not want to pass on from this world. Even if we do exist as wisps of spirits after we are gone, what fun is that? For a sensualist like me, addicted to the pleasures attainable only through hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting, and most important of all touching... to be condemned to an incorporeal form is an invitation to Hell.

If I am to wander the cloud city of Heaven, then let me have a tangible body! Allow me the bliss of orgasm as I couple with the loveliest of all creatures, God's golden-haired angels! Do not force me the drudgery of sweeping through a vast expanse with naught to do but fly, play a harp, and talk with other spirits. Far better would be Hell in that instance, I should think, for at least in the pain there is feeling and sensation.

I do not want to become mere dust. Let not the atheists be right in their assertion that there is nothing in the end. Too, banish the reincarnationists, for even in the return to the earthly world, all sense of my self would be lost in the rebirth, and so I too, in essence would become lost and not Myself, but an Other.

Now on the other hand, were I to know myself as still being myself and retain the memories of the former me, then reincarnation might even be quite fun, for through several lifetimes, I would have the pleasure of experiencing the totality that human existence has to offer, with each succeeding incarnation growing wiser and more knowledgeable than the last.

But of course, this fantasy, as many are, is all an illusion, an idyllic daydream that will not see fruition or the light of day in reality.

All of this pondering and heavy thought makes me tired. Abed I go. Winning streak, shall we come to know you tomorrow? I hope so.

...Hope is often all that we have.