Sometimes I am silly:
I miss the times when I was young and sad and with friends.
Now I am older, happier and have far less sex.
But some days (!) I listen to Bauhaus, read letters from my best friend (40000 km away) and look at Tokyo Tower, the familiar feeling of melancholie and the infinite sadness creeps up my spine and just like 10 years ago, I am happy for the funny reason.
Now I am here for some hours and 32 years. Finally I sport a beard and some gray hair.
At morning, kissing my awoken daughter and sleeping wife, I feel the happiness for good things. The best in getting older is watching my wife get younger, my baby growing and my hair graying.
Today my birthday ended. Yesterday the rest of my live continued.