damn i miss the simplicity of innocence. I miss when my journal was filled with romantic ramblings about my crush of the week... or day... or class. Instead, it is more frequently nothing but the bitter ramblings of a bipolar neurotic who doesn't even understand herself.
i turn 22 this year. 22. yea yea yea, its still young, and yea, i have a whole life to live ahead of me. But still, 22 kinda freaks me out. I mean ok. I mean, really. there really isn't any chance for the "stupid kid" excuse or any of those advantages we youths constantly abuse. 18 is the end of your childhood. 19 is kinda lame, but at least your stil waiting for 21. 20, a bit sucky too, but hey, you are no longer a teen. and then 21. Aaahhhh 21. an age of exploration, fun, recklessness. :)
the good days.
and the you get smacked in the frickin face by 22. 22 says, adult. 22 says the beginnings of a career. 22 is watching. 22 is waiting. 22 is keeping tabs. and when 22 comes, and it will come indeed, it is going to bring the full weight of adulthood upon me.
oh joy. :)
i turn 22 this year. 22. yea yea yea, its still young, and yea, i have a whole life to live ahead of me. But still, 22 kinda freaks me out. I mean ok. I mean, really. there really isn't any chance for the "stupid kid" excuse or any of those advantages we youths constantly abuse. 18 is the end of your childhood. 19 is kinda lame, but at least your stil waiting for 21. 20, a bit sucky too, but hey, you are no longer a teen. and then 21. Aaahhhh 21. an age of exploration, fun, recklessness. :)
the good days.
and the you get smacked in the frickin face by 22. 22 says, adult. 22 says the beginnings of a career. 22 is watching. 22 is waiting. 22 is keeping tabs. and when 22 comes, and it will come indeed, it is going to bring the full weight of adulthood upon me.
oh joy. :)
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