I can't fucking believe how quickly it snuck up on me. Another damn birthday is coming up in exactly one week. Aside from me being another year older, a thought which within itself I don't exactly cherish, my birthday in some cruel twist of fate has transformed from a cause to celebrate into a time of painful memory.

The whole thing started when Ray, my best friend passed a way a few years ago. We used to celebrate our birthdays together because they were so close in date and because we were so fucking tight like brothers, so much so that it is impossible to think of my birthday without thinking of him.

We used to have the best fucking parties, ever. It was fucking sick as hell and I couldn't possibly dream of having it any other way. But then he passed away and almost 5 birthdays later I still can't look at my birthday, at our birthday without being stricken with sorrow.

The thing is I'm not sure if I want my birthday to ever be a happy occasion at least not anymore. I mean fuck happiness. It's all a bunch of overrated bullshit anyway. I mean sure, it feels good when you are in the zone, but eventually you get bitch slapped back to reality. Good things like that are never meant to last. I know that people die and I know that those who are still alive are supposed to go on living because we aren't fucking dead yet. But how in the holiest of holy fucks am I supposed to have a "happy birthday" when my happiness died right along with Ray.

Ray, I fucking love you man, but you fucking bailed on us way too early. I mean what the fuck am I supposed to do, forget about you and just be happy? I can't fucking do that man! This fucking sucks, all of it. I feel like putting my fist through the fucking wall. It just doesn't fucking feel right and I don't think it ever will.

Sometimes I wish my birthday would just fucking disappear so I don't have to go though this shit every fucking year. The reality of the situation is that it's not going to disappear and it's not likely to be forgotten. There are well-intentioned and well-meaning loved ones who would never forget my birthday and I can never be angry at them for that.

I don't know, it's been a while since I've gotten majorly stupid drunk. Perhaps this is the perfect occasion for me to get drunk off my ass, or at the very least drunk enough that the pain doesn't matter. So alright, it's so fucking on this weekend. I'm hitting the bar scene and I'm hitting it hard. I could use a fucking martini (x10). That's all I have to say about that...