Birthday Boy...

Six years ago, just two days prior to my birthday, I took the plunge and bid farewell to my Facebook account. The motive? A little social experiment. I wanted to test how many of those close to me genuinely knew the date of my birthday. To my astonishment, it was primarily my family and a handful of relatives who reached out with well wishes. That was the moment the realization dawned upon me—Facebook held no dominion over my life.

Fast forward six years, and here I stand, unaltered in my stance. No grievances, no qualms. I'm not the kind who revels in the birthday spotlight or orchestrates grand revelries. In fact, my last recollection of a birthday bash is a distant memory. Even in my childhood, I harbored the same disposition. My sister, conversely, basked in the celebratory aura that her birthday brought.

My creed has always been to treasure every day gifted to us on this exquisite planet (arguably the finest in the cosmos) as though it were our birthday.

And so, 37 revolutions around the sun have transpired since I made my terrestrial debut. Yet, I'm yet to unearth my purpose. Some tout me as splendid company, while others find my existence far from commendable. Ultimately, I remain unaltered, resolute in my identity irrespective of the perspectives others impose upon me. Allowing external judgments to exert influence is, undoubtedly, one of the gravest missteps one can undertake.

This theme has often found its way into my crypto-infused narratives on @leofinance. The crypto realm is rife with the cacophony of voices, many inconsequential or, dare I say, inconsequential by design. Grappling with their influence can prove to be folly. So, what has my 37-year voyage on this Earth yielded?

Well, I'm no "ordinary bloke," as you might have surmised from my contributions on this blockchain. A nearly six-year journey as a Hive aficionado stands as testament. Tempus fugit—how swiftly time soars. Though my chronological odometer reads 37, I scarcely feel it. Admittedly, a few more gray strands grace my mane than genetics alone would dictate. The blame, I suppose, lies on the doorstep of mischievous genes and the undue burden of accumulated stress. Yet, all things considered, I present well and bask in vitality.

Whether I appear to have crested the summit of my physical prime or venture into the realm of a youthful visage remains a riddle, one that others around my age may ponder.

In the realm of the intellect, a discernible maturation has coursed through my veins in recent years. Credit for this metamorphosis, to a great extent, finds its abode in the world of crypto. A roller-coaster journey spanning six years, peppered with gains and losses, has contributed its share to my evolution—imparting a hard-earned maturity and discipline. Money, too, has assumed a different role in my life.

Reflecting upon my kindergarten daydreams, where fanciful notions of wealth danced, one might conclude that I should have ensconced myself within the millionaire's club by now. I often harbored a notion that I was innately endowed with opulence, a sentiment I closely shared with the protagonists of "The Prince and the Pauper." However, the detours of life—primarily alcohol and the allure of the risqué—veered my course away from that fanciful trajectory. Not yet wealthy, but content nonetheless.

As for family, that avenue remains unexplored, and by choice. Parenthood, with its attendant responsibilities and the harmonious choreography demanded by a wife and offspring, has never beckoned me. On the flip side, I'm spared the encumbrance that familial obligations bestow. The calculus of this trade-off still intrigues me, though.

So, how shall I mark this milestone of a birthday? Celebration doesn't seem to be on my agenda. Perhaps, a dip in the pool to dabble in a bit of aquatic merriment is the most I shall entertain. Perhaps.

"Age is irrelevant unless you are a cheese," quipped @meno, a sentiment I hold dear. Nurturing oneself, extending kindness, care, and respect, ensures that no feat of a 20-year-old remains off-limits at the ripe age of 40. Ah, but hang on—I'm a mere 37 and I'm not a cheese. Wishing you all a splendid day, dear readers. Until next time.

Thanks for your attention,
Adrian