Suicide can be a logical thing for someone to contemplate, who keeps his eyes open and sees no indications of change. But indications of change are something for people to stare at who are hedging their bets around the idea that keeping the eyes open is the first step in seeking the good.
Pregnancy is a center of gossip, if not the center. Twenty-one years ago new mothers were shown to me who had decided that the future will take care of itself. But that did not stop them spitting about the bad they saw--talking of bad that they could claim had nothing to do with them. That is, a mother--and a father, if she so chooses to have such a political ally--is a venomous creature where formerly stood just another friend.
I'll count from one to any old (or young) number, while waiting for someone to throw in the word, culture (which is a nice way to get out of talking about politics and religion and to focus on skirts).
People don't change, but we go through changes. Quite in a different direction to my upbringing, and seeming to show me as obsessed with circles, on my birthday I come to contemplate an orbit; amazingly for someone thus wet behind his ears, I've known for well over half my life that star-signs are most often used as an excuse for the same-old same-old that seeks endless excuses. Astrology aside, then, the day is a reminder of a day of the year that is registered with the state (and therefore accessible to all states with which ours has information treaties).
There are exceptions from whom I appreciate that they've noted the day, but they know who they are: birthday wishes in general are unpleasant reminders of unpleasantness.
Don't be surprised if you don't get any thanks for your misplaced sense of cultural duty.
If I can't find a rat to cook and share, I will simply deplace your message.