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March 29, 2004, 12:53 a.m.

At this moment my head pushed it's way through the birth canal, my shoulders following, and then my heart stopped for half a second to adjust to the new world.

My eyes had a light film of tears as I cried to get my first gasps of air.

I couldn't focus on anything because my vision was still developing. I had no thoughts, just instinct driving me to breathe, cry, and want food.

I took in the light like I was perhaps dead, yet I was as fresh as any human can be.

My ears adjusted to many noises. I only payed attention to the soft vibrations my mother directed towards me. I recognized this voice and I calmed myself. I felt like I was in the womb again.

This was my purest and most innocent moment. Nothing mattered, but survival.

And so I did. I survived 20 years at this hour. I'm a generation in age. I'm not legal for alcohol and yet I drink it. I can't rent a car and yet I own one.

This is my question for the world: How often does a person die at the time and day of their birthdate?

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