Happy birthday to me.

I don't know how I feel about turning 19. I was 18 with the attitude, but now I have to be 19, kinda snotty, actin' real rude? Ah well--everyone else has done it, and I'm now a year closer to being 21, so I shouldn't complain.
Every year I want my birthday to be the start of a new, different year in my life. I want to cleanse away what I don't like about myself and become a better, more knowledgeable, cooler person. Of course it never works. This year it's especially depressing because it's cloudy and raining, which feels...symbolic of the year ahead.
So I took the shortcut route and got new clothes, which doesn't do much in the long term, but makes me feel slightly better about myself and my goals. New H&M threads reflect who I want to make myself into in the coming year--casual, yet stylish; original, yet flirty; all those cliches you see in Cosmo or whatever.

"But in the end it's just another day
And there's no explanation or a plan that you can make
And you can't run away..."