I’ve been 24 years old for the better part of 23 hours now. It is a pleasant feeling. In other times, and perhaps much more amazingly frequently than possible, it is a wonderful feeling

When I was 12 years old, I couldn’t imagine myself being 24. It mostly had to do with a stunted imagination, at that time more solely occupied to imagining snakes eating classmates or talking to girls from other classrooms. Maybe I had imagined, sometimes, when I’ve accidentally ingested Brand’s Chicken Stock; because I remember imagining being a comic-book artist, even if the imagination had been short and deformed and unrealised.  

When I was 18, I imagined being 24 and working as a journalist – the type who finds stories and tells them nicely, if not persistently – and then finding a Girl. When I was 23, I imagined being 24 as like being 23 – unchanged, unmoving, uninspired.

Being 24 now and not imagining it, I’m mostly surprised that I’m not dead.

I’m also surprised that I’ve managed to keep a job.

I’m also also surprised that I’m still having friends, my family has not denounced my existence, I’ve not turned into a psychopathic, schizophrenic killer (haven’t quite reached the killer bit) and I’ve not consigned myself into a church of the Great Old Ones, feeding fishes to baby octopi in a bit to raise the True Cthulhu.

I’m also surprised that I’m happy. Yeah. These days, I’m happy. And glad. And content. And fulfilled. And satiated. And filled. And Loved.

And, perhaps the biggest surprise that I would find myself in; I’m surprised that I now have Dreams.

And I’ve had dreams. Just not Dreams. Dreams, of the ones that I want to fulfil. The ones that I know I’ll get to once I start moving. Once I start walking. Once I learned how to run and leap hurdles and swim and jump and fly. And, as having Dreams would entail, you know you can do all that. You’ll also know you won’t fail, because there’s a hand catching you, and that hand is warm and gentle and firm. It is a reason. A great, wonderful reason.

I guess I’m really surprised that I would Want. And Hope. And Take.

Being here, 24 years old and not imagining it, I started imagining the future. There’s a Dream there that I want to reach, and I’m heading there. I’m walking now, occasionally stumbling and slipping, but I know there’s a hand there for me to hold and feel comforted. And I know I’ll get there, because Someone believes in me. That’s all I need.

I’ll just Keep Going.     

****

Birthdays will get better than this; that’s indubitable, and it’s because I know I can hope for a beautiful kind of future. But as of now, this Birthday is simply awesome.

It started with a phone call. I became the Happiest Bloke Alive.

Then the early wishes came, and they had kept coming, and I like that I’m able to thank all of them personally, even if I can’t thank them enough. Here’s an additional Thank You, All!, if any of you happen to be here, reading.

And then I dreamed. Of nice things.

I woke up to a memory of a brother coming into my room to retrieve his mouse, and saying Happy Birthday on the way out. I slept again, because I was given permission to. I woke up to see that my father had SMSed a wish. It was very unlike him. I had thought I was dreaming.

I went to work to find a present on my keyboard, and it was a copy of Terry Pratchett’s Monstrous Regiments, given to me by the Best Editor in the World, who had wrapped it with calendar paper and printed a self-made card to go along. And the Best Magazine Sales-Guy gave me a Nerf Gun: Stealth Edition. They both treated me lunch. They are the Best Colleagues Ever.

My mom then finally worked out the complexity of handphone texting, and SMSed me a wish. I’m impressed and very grateful.

Work was really just me, the Best Editor and the Best Sales Guy playing the XBOX 360 on the review monitor.

I came home and went for dinner with the family. The food was good, the company better and I’m glad that I could sit at a table with family who can laugh and joke and talk to one another. They made me belong.

And I’m here now, Jiaogulan Tea on the table, the gentle quietness of the night outside, and I’m writing this at the computer with the speakers silent. Sometimes the best music is in your head.

But the best thing of all was the thing that came through the hands of many a people, placed into mine by my father, and it came with Pictures, and Balloons, and Dreams, and the Words. The Words that said more and fulfilled me more than anything. The Words that told me to Keep Going. The Words that signed it. And Something that would linger in my heart, forever and ever.

It is, truly is, the best birthday present one could ever receive.

I end this now, with a thank you. To all of you, who stuck by this hopeless guy and gave him everything he could ask for, or could even imagine asking.

So thank you, everyone.

And, lastly, Thank You. =)

Goodnight, People.