"I am legend. Death has no claim over me, illness cannot touch me. Look at me now and it would be hard to put an age upon me, and yet I was born in the Year of Our Lord 1330, more than six hundred and seventy years ago.

I have been many things in my time: a physician and a cook, a bookseller and a soldier, a teacher of languages and chemistry, both an oficer of the law and a thief."
-Nicholas Flamel, The Secrets of The Immortal by Michael Scott

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      Another year is added to my continuously increasing age. I do age. I am human. But I'm not Nick who is human but doesn't age.I envy him. Not because he doesn't age but because of the seemingly great experience of the world.

     I'm talking as if this fiction is true. But yes, in my unique world, finctions do exist. They are a part of my whole being.Magical and seemingly-unbelievable creatures of imaginations inspire me. They play a great deal in my 18 years of existence.

     I am Paul. You knew me all along as Pablo Juan. My beliefs, my scandals, my opinions, my frustrated art, my narcissistic works... My fears, my hopes and a couple of my dreams are not secrets to those who read this good-for-nothing-blog (this is not false modesty if you call it in social psychology. This is my opinion of the whole lot of this crap).

     I am not legend and as my destiny, like all others, death has claim over me. It's easy to put an age upon me and describe how an eighteen-year-old college boy looked like. I wasn't born yesterday. I was born in the 90's and that time was far away greater than that of our time today.

     For those who didn't know, what I fear the most is the fact that I do age - that I celebrate a day for my birth..
Yes, indeed. I fear my birthday. An irrational fear of accepting that there's such a day that I celebrate the day when I get freed from my mom's womb. Google says this irrational fear or phobia of celebrating a birthday, or someone wishing him/her happy birthday is called as the fragapanephobia. Hell cares for what it is called. But really, I fear it.

God knows why, but I just can't explain the whole lot of it.

Eighteen years have passed and maybe it is time for a couple of self assessment.

     In the eighteen years of existence, what have become of me?

     As what I've said, I am not Nicholas Flamel. I was never a physician nor a cook; not a bookseller, a soldier, not a teacher of any subject, and never an officer of law... But I am a thief of my own recall. As of this very moment, the only thing I know that have become of me is that
 I am still what I am in the past. Stagnant. I'm still the student who condemns a little of what has become of our society's system.

     It's hard to pinpoint which of the experiences I have had had caused a change in the whole of me... As of the moment, I can't think of a thing that caused something in me.

Can you? Can you give me an idea?

     Anyway, as I've been saying, it always makes me sad whenever I recall my past regarding birthdays...
In the past years that I've celebrated my day, smiles and happiness were not genuine. It's the mask that I've always worn. For me, celebrations are another occasion to recall the painful memories.

     Wondering why I'm like this? Why I never liked celebrating my birth? Though mom would always insist?

    It is always that at the end of the day, someone important leaves... some relationship ends... and something happens that would go to an open ended story. Always, at the end of the day, I'm left alon. I hate this. I am a psychology major yet I don't know how to handle depression. I am a psychology major, I study personality, behavior, depression, etc. yet I do not how to move on. I do not know how to pass through this yearly dilemma. I do not know how to overcome this irrational fear that I have. I don't know what to do.

 
     I feel helples whenever voices in my mind keep on doing rebuttals. My phobic side would always insist that I must not hope for birthday wishes.. (cause there's always a part of me that expects a greeting from someone important/special to me)..

     On the far end on my mind, another voice would still hope for that someone to greet me in the very least way that that voice could think of.

     And at the end of the day, the second voice would get disappointed and my phobic voice would be strengthened.. I hate what I am when it's my birthday.

     Say it unusual but there's a bit of me that's different in most people... As of this moment, my heart is heavy. Memories still fight for freedom in my preconscious... All I need is to express this repressed negative energies.How? That I do not know.

For you who's been reading this long crap of emotions, thank you. For you who's greeted me in the least way you can, thank you. No one has sang me a happy birthday but the second voice in my mind is still fighting the other. I'll just get disappointed says the first.

(wtf! I'm speaking rubbish. I'm crying now. As what I've said, one part of my mind wanted to sing, another is fighting the thought.


For you who stood with me until this very day, thank you.


For linguists/grammar checkers/ copyreaders/proofreaders, forgive me for how I constructed my thoughts.

Before, I thought and believed that writing through blogs or online notes can be a way of self expression.. But it's a no-no. I was wrong. I have just realized that there are things that you can express through blogs, but there's a point of emotion that's left hanging and is better if spoken to a friend.

I am not the Legendary Nicholas Flamel. I have not experienced what he experienced in the world of imagination.


But I am Paul. And I will see to it that in the nearest future, I would live life to the fullest of its extent to experience the reality of my imagination.

I am not six-hundred and seventy years old, I have just turned eighteen but I will see to it that I will bring my 18 years of learning and experience until the very end; adjust to further learning. And in one point of my future, I'll see to it that someone young would learn
from me.

It's not the end.. It's just another start..


FOR YOU WHO HAVE BEEN THERE SINCE THE DAY OUR TIMES CROSSED, I THANK YOU..
YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. (my end part is out of rhyme with the body.. haha)


To God, Thank you for helping me live until this very day. Thank you for all the blessings you have given me and my family. You know how much I love you. Thank you for everything.

To my family, I love you. For the patience and the love, thank you. After all the struggles and pains, I know in the end, we'll still be whatwe aspire of becoming in the future. A little more patience.. a little more patience.

To my friends (childhood, gradeschool, highschool, college, and best of friends), I don't know what to say. Forgive me for the things I've
done not wise, thank you for things you all have done to me. For the lessons, from the pains of failures and the joys of success, from the swings of love
and break-ups, I thank you all... I may not be there in the times when you needed a friend, but this I say that I'll be there as long as I can.

FOR ALL OF YOU WHO INSPIRED AND INSPIRES ME STILL, FICTIONAL/NON-FICTIONAL CHARACTERS, LIVING AND NON-LIVING,
LABYOOO ALL.. :)

Until the next part of our lives.. see you all in the nearest future..



-Pablo Juan.









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    Salamat sa pagbabasa, mabuhay ka, oh mambabasa!


    -Pablo Juan

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