Avatar Author: Conjoiner, Rejoinder, Poisoner, Concealer, Revelator [[Wednesday]] Formerly Wednesday [PJ] ((LoA)) *Cheer Captain of the High Seas* in the League of Awesomeness. _“As the tide washed in, the Dutch Tulip Man faced the Ocean: “Conjoiner rejoinder poisoner concealer revelator. Look a... Read Bio

We celebrate birthdays, once a year for each person in the world, every year until the person dies. But why? Birthdays celebrate your day of birth, the date of which and the means of which you really had no role to play. By all rights, birthdays should be a day where mothers are given presents for pushing you through their ‘birth canal’ (as a friend once wrote in my birthday card) in considerable pain for what could have been up to three days (example: me.) and carrying you around for nine months or so enduring mood swings and weight gain so dramatic as to send one into a depression.
And then there’s the means by which we celebrate our day of birth. Presents are given for no real reason other than the fact that you are alive (although being nice helps) and classmates and workmates cheerily chirp “Happy Birthday!” at you, no matter how miserable the look is that is plastered onto your face, or nobody says it and you remain unnoticed and miserable on this ‘happy’ day.
Birthdays, ultimately, are pointless.

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  1. Avatar Bob Liddil

    I can see the connection to the theme and the essay makes a great point. So I called my mom and added a “happy birthday” to her in appreciation of all her hard work in bringing me into the world.

    Thoughtful piece!