33

They said Jesus lived to be 33. Today I turn 33. Of course I can’t compare myself to our King. It would make any person feel small.

In my life I can’t say there hasn’t been too many trouble waters. Maybe a slight downpour at times.

My wish this year is to live happier.

As birthdays continue I find myself growing sad and feeling sorry for myself. I can’t validate it because that in turns just throws me into turmoil within. Who am I to complain? Why can’t I just be happy with where I’m at? Why is being a “constant” a bad thing? Why have I labeled myself so?

See what I mean? Thinking about just makes the sadness grows. Instead just let it be.

33. I hope it’s a good number for me.

Happy Birthday self.