And then I'm nineteen

Nineteen years ago on this day, I would like to imagine myself to be coming into this world in a graceful and poise manner, unlike other kicking and screaming infants. I would like to think that the moment I inhale the very first breath,  I was acknowledged for the great impact that I would have on this world. And I would also like to believe that I was born to fulfill a prophecy of sort; one that proclaim how my writings would save the world etc.

I hope that I was not sadly mistaken on the last two account because I really really wanna wrangle world peace from the monsters of humankind armed with only words as my armor and sword.

6940 days later, I'm nineteen and desperately clinging onto the last vestige of my teens as I'm only a mere 365 days away from entering the 2-0 phase of my life. And truth to be told is, I don't feel any differently today than how I felt yesterday or the day before that. In fact, my days had went on to become a dreary old boring pattern of just living that I'm pretty sure others around me are harboring the notion that I'm actually an eighty year old soul living in this unfit young body of mine.

Birthday these days meant a lot different to me than it was back then. Years ago, I used to anticipate nineteenth of September with bated breath. I used to plan weeks and sometimes months ahead on who, where and how I would celebrate this day. And sometimes, I even stayed up the whole day just so that I wouldn't waste a single second of it.  Now? I'm just impervious to all the hooha surrounding it. Am I just bitter or is this a precursor of adulthood?

Had I really grown up from that big headed tot who wails like a banshee whenever things didn't go her way? Or is she still somewhere deep within?

There are no yardstick on how grown up one had become nor is there any unit of measurement to one's maturity. However, we do have the tool of time. It is only through the passage of time that we can pick up on the nuances in ourselves to fit into the bigger picture. It is only by sifting through all those little memories, that we bottle up for safekeeping, that can remind us on how different we are today than we were yesterday.

The white gold jewelry set are what I got from my mom for my birthday this year. And nothing hits me more with clarity than this simple gift from her; I'm no longer the little girl who I was.

Instead of gloating about this hundreds of ringgit gift that I got, I was actually thinking of how to make it up to my brother, who because of his obvious testosterone level did not get any expensive jewelry (not that my mom has anything against guys with jewelry). To digress, when I younger - maybe around 7 or 8 - I got my brother this eraser, with the Denmark flag on it, from the school's bookshop for his birthday. Puffed with sisterly pride for giving him a present when never before then had he given me one, I broke the eraser into two only a few hours later just because we got into a fight.

The brother whom I had got into so many arguments and fights with over the span of this meagre nineteen years is also the same one whom I had been embroiled in sibling's rivalry almost all my life. I remember how I would used to say that my mom loves him more because she always spoke so highly of her firstborn and how he would always argued that my mom unmistakably loves me better because she bought me more stuff.

Ah, those were the good old memories of sibling's jealousy.

We have gone a long way since then. We still argue over the most nonsensical thing ever but we also confides in each other on everything under the sun. It was when the thought of 'making up to him'  popped up that I think I had grown from the spoilt self-centred girl to someone who is a lil more considerate of others.

I'm not proclaiming that I'm a saint because as a matter of fact I've only recently threw a tantrum few weeks back that turned the whole farewell lunch buffet at Shogun into a dour affair. Suffice to say that the argument between mother and daughter occurred because I am a stickler for punctuality.

In as much as I hope that I would be a better person overnight, I know very well that it takes many a day to be where I want to be and even then it's going to be an uphill battle because the nineteen years old me still have a lot of growing up and moving on to do.


Until then, xoxo.


P.s: I've always  ♥  the number 19 because I was born on 19th September 1993 at 3.19 in the morning and today - coincidentally 19 years after I was born and that I'm 19 - my western and lunar birthday again falls on the same day. Isn't 19 my lucky number or what? (:

P.p.s: And I think this is one of my longest post EVER but I would also like to believe that I'll be forgiven since this is my birthday post. The hugs and kisses are for those of you who had patiently endure through this horribly looong post. (((((:

P.p.s:  Just so y'know, this is actually an embargoed post which means that I did not actually slump at home the whole day of today to actually write this.