Ever since I was sixteen, I have been waiting for the day I turn eighteen. For me, it was a milestone: I would legally be an adult, and basically have the freedom I so very dearly long for.
Nearly two years later, as my birthday approaches, all I can think of is how I’ve spent the last seventeen years of my life.
As soon as August hit, I felt shell-shocked by the realization that I can’t remember anything in my life that might be deemed noteworthy. I have wasted my teenage years bitching and whining about every little thing, that I haven’t even stopped to look at where I was going. Stunned, I now realize that I am nearing adulthood yet I might still be the same immature, selfish brat I was back then.

Eighteen. *sigh* Why do I feel so old all of a sudden?
Anyway, to lighten the mood, I am posting eighteen things I want for my birthday:
  • Matthew Moore’s Rare Prints Ray Ban Wayfarers
  • A surprise party thrown by my mom
  • A small surprise, at least, by my friends. Even a chocolate or mango crunch cake would do. It’s the thought I’m after, not the food
  • Pass all my subjects’ prelims
  • Peter Angelo’s Coming Home painting inspired by The Little Prince
  • A 300-peso Fall Out Boy shirt from that shirt stall in SM Fairview
  • Anything Fall Out Boy, actually (especially Pete Wentz—mmm.)
  • A huge box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates
  • My mom to stop making such a big deal of me drinking
  • Anything Super Mario
  • The silver, razor blade charm bracelet from Bench
  • Completing my collection of Pugad Baboy comic books
  • A copy of Carrie by Stephen King, which is unavailable in a lot of bookstores—and believe me, I’ve checked
  • 20th Century American Architecture by Sydney Leblanc, a 575-peso, non-technical book on American architecture
  • A small, cute, preferably yellow car with rounded features. Not a Volkswagen, though—something in this generation, please.
  • Braces, while I’m still single because if I get a boyfriend, I wouldn’t know how to kiss with metal in my mouth.
  • A new pair of school shoes. Mine have braved the floodwaters of España, and they might be at the end of their life
  • Cute, unusual earrings
Yes, I am a greedy bitch.

Ela is a twentysomething who is constantly getting stuck in self-destructive behavior and bouts of low self-esteem. She struggles with depression and writes to relieve herself of her feelings. Sometimes she even blogs about other things like makeup and positivity. One of her pieces was published in the Inquirer Young Blood in October 2017. She likes cats, dogs, and sometimes even people.


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