THIS IS A DRAFT

It’s my birthday today. And yours. And everyone else’s.

“Technically, it’s not your birthday,” said one of the nit-picking voices in my head. “It’s your birthday anniversary. Your birthday was 80 years ago.”

“And it’s not my birthday, either,” said an imaginary reader.

“It wouldn’t be my birthday if I had been talking about 80-Years-Ago-Past-Me,” I picked a nit back at to the nit-picking voice. “But I wasn’t. I was talking about me: Present Me. I am reborn every instant. I arise and pass away and arise again.

It was true. Since I started writing this, I’ve been reborn several times that I could remember and countless times that I didn’t, hadn’t, or couldn’t remember.

“Maybe so,” said the imaginary reader. “But it can’t be my birthday because I don’t exist. Checkmate, asshole.”

“And it’s my birthday today,” said another voice.

“Who is that,” asked an imaginary reader.

“I’m the idea for this post,” came the answer. “Here’s another idea for another post.”

“I can’t waste my time clicking links,” said another imaginary reader.

“I can’t waste my time clicking fucking links,” said an imaginary reader from New York.

70 Years Old. WTF!

DRAFT: Happy birthday, to you, me, and…