Happy Birthday to Me

XX. Yes, I have lived and survived in this world for XX years now.

It could have sounded like a huge deal in ancient times.

Okay. A pat on the back.

I tend to feel melancholy and cranky on days like Valentine’s Day (when I don’t have a Valentine, which I never do), New Year’s Day and of course, my birthday. It is an unbashful reminder of how single I am — XX bloody years, and haven’t dated once. If I died today, I couldn’t even cross off the item that says “Boyfriend.” Because I never had one. Ouch.

But I confess that I fall in love frequently. But the person that I am in love with never seem to respond positively or continuously. A clue maybe? A hint maybe? They simply vanish in my life without a trace. At least tell me what I have done to piss you off so I can score better next time? Maybe, just maybe. I will always remember you, your kindness and your grace.

So, apart from my pathetic love life (or do I really have one?), what have I done (a more posh word: achieved) in this XX years?

I revamped my life last year. Now I am in LA studying screenwriting. It’s a tough business. I am enjoying it even though I am a rookie knowing nobody in the business, and most of the time an underdog.

I used to dream about being rich and famous. I don’t think about the odds too much now. You see, to me now, happiness and doing what I believe is great work is what’s more important.

Now I am officially XX, what I should do to make me a better version of me?

I need to take more risks. I will push myself more out of my comfort zone. My finance is in red. I will start looking for jobs after the Winter Quarter. Most of all, I will spend most of my time writing, not whining about writing, or thinking about writing, but to really write like a professional writer.

I admit that I am not THAT gifted. Nor do I have great story ideas. But I know I have something. Or the school wouldn’t have admitted a Chinese in its screenwriting program that writes in English. I know that seeing my work gets rejected hurts. But now I know better the pain of “what if” will haunt me even more if I don’t give it my best shot, every single time I try. At least I can say, man, I tried; not the “I could’ve, would’ve, should’ve” crap that I used to deceive myself into.

I also learned that comparing with other people only give me more headaches and make me loathing myself more. Why would I do that? The single thing that I care most about now (apart from my lovely parents and my kitty Michael), is —

Whether I am learning, improving every day, and living a fulfilled life.

One can only have so much control in life. Although I consider myself a bit of a control (freak?), now I know that what I can control is my attitude and my reaction to what has happened. And most of all —

how hard I put and push myself to work.

Everything else is secondary. So write on.

Happy xxth birthday.


Yours truly,