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What comes with age as you grow older and a birthday cake for a cocoa lover

This past wednesday was my forty fifth birthday. It seems so weird saying it like this, forty five years old. I do feel my age, in certain aspects: I generally don't give a rat's ass about what others are gonna think of me, I rely on other's opinions and words less and less each day, I tend to mostly ignore sideways glances about what I'm wearing or my make-up, and I usually, after a first painful bout, put down words of discouragement from others to a problem of their own, and not a problem with my work. I'm too full of myself, now at forty five, to admit I actually suck, although I do tend to still question my worth every once in a while, thing is I usually end up thinking the rest of the world is positively wrong and I rock, I'm the best thing to touch down on earth since Anne Rice wrote Interview with the Vampire, know what I mean?

I also feel my age in those aches and pains on bones and joints that tend to turn up as you go on in years. And there's a …

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