Published in Personal - 1 min to read

I had wanted to write something more high-effort for my birthday, but sadly I am far too tired for that, but I’ll get round to it at some point this week. I’m 26, which seems like a very in-between kinda age, it doesn’t have the round qualities of 25, nor does it have the rock ‘n’ roll of 27 and its associated club. I discovered earlier that I share a birthday with Aaron Swartz, and I’m now the same age he was when he died. I have not achieved even one iota of what he did in 26 years, but hopefully I’ll be able to catch up one day.

Like I talked about last year, birthdays don’t come with the lustre of excitement and shiny gifts that they did as a child, but I think today was probably better than most of my childhood birthdays, for entirely different reasons. My closest friends have all been exceptionally kind to me and made me feel loved and accepted even more than they usually do. What material present could be better than that?