Thirty three. What an age to die. Old enough to call yourself an adult. Young enough to not behave like one. Thirty three for me was career and boyfriends and parties and shopping. How grateful I am not to have the sins of the world on my shoulders, to take responsibility for generations of people, to suffer humiliation and misunderstanding and finally Internet jokes. And maybe to come back and face it all again?
Im not a Christian, so I'm not entirely sure what Easter is about, other than the obvious death-resurrection, and the parallel symbolism of springtime. But I think it can also be a time to be grateful for our miserable little lives, devoid of celebrity and the childhood dream that the universe will one day revolve around us.