You're consistently fighting a losing battle against time... do you remember... you're getting older... do you remember... death is coming.... do you remember?
I, too, hate being surrounded by a warm and plentiful gathering of friends and loved ones singing a song of appreciation for me. Every year! Without fail! All of them never forgetting. There are always so many of them! Like, just for once, let me have a birthday alone in a Texas Roadhouse, which I have never done!
Definitely sucks to be remembered. Being forgotten and ignored is a much better way to live life. So much more fulfilling. Especially if you're down to only a few remaining friends. The rest home is going to be awesome.
It's so calm, no pressure, no expectations, no humans, just drifting slowly towards the warm embrace is the abyss. Even if it looks back at me - at least it's not a human.
My fetish is to meet a woman on tinder, take her to a restaurant, and excuse myself. I then go tell the staff it's her birthday so they go sing happy birthday to her while she is alone at the table.
OK, my friends have an alternate happy birthday song, which is infinitely better, and still fulfills the societal expectation of a birthday song. The lyrics go like this:
This is your birthday song.
It isn't very long.
Hey!
*single clap for punctuation*
I'd suggest adopting it into your friend group for a better future.
I like that idea, but I have a better one that no one seems to catch on to yet. Namely, at most, walk by me, say "happy birthday," then forget about the fact that it's my birthday. Not saying anything also works.
Our friend group has a weird in-joke birthday song that's faster and has synchronized clapping. It doesn't drag like og birthday song, plus it's a real power move in a busy restaurant to have 20 people scream-shouting a coordinated song no one else has heard before. I think a key feature of the song's success is it has a few slower intro notes/words that one person can sing and it cues everyone else to jump in and in sync.
The 6th syllable of each line is... I want to say a full tone down? Then the "hey" is a tone or two up. I'm not super musically inclined, so I'm not sure I could tell you which notes.
My mother-in-law and father-in-law (before he died) used to call me on the phone and sing it to me with her singing harmony, while he also played guitar. And while the skill was appreciated... the first couple of times... it got old fast. And taking off my clothes would probably not help in that situation. I mean, obviously I did that anyway, but it didn't help.
I'm about to take over as manager of my department. One of the first things I'm abolishing is mandatory singing of the happy birthday song. We're fully remote and it's impossible to sync up so we sound like a chorus of five-year-olds. Fully optional whether or not we sing for you, or even acknowledge your birthday, from now on.
Aww my relatively new friends who I have a weekly social group with found out it was my birthday the one night we gathered and sang to me and it made me tear up to be that loved in a moment. I loved it. Nobody has sung to me in probably 30 years.
I have only had to endure this 5 or 6 times in my life every year people would try to get me into it and i respectfully decline . But sometimes they show up at 12 with cake and shit and i just go along with it because i don't wanna dissapoint them knowing how much effort they put into it.
If, when they start singing, you get up and go to the bathroom, they will probably stop and not follow you. So, like 90% chance it gets better. 10% chance it gets much, much worse.
I prefer going to karaoke with friends and shout singing this delightful birthday rock song in Engrish by a band from Okinawa. The lyrics are a little hard to hear so I'll put them here:
I like birthday, I'll become old man, and yet I like birthday
I like birthday because you celebrate
Happy happy happy birthday
I'm looking forward to so happy day
What will you present for me?
Please hold on me, I'd like you to do nothing for me
So hold on me
Please give me your love.