Birthdays I remember: the time I had a big kiddie birthday party, the time I was such a hormonal depressive teenager my friends should have beaten me up instead of getting me cake, the time my friends surprised me in my sleep (to which I could only begin to react after they had all gone home because I WAS thaaaat slow), the one where I freaked out about singing in front of a crowd, the time my boyfriend went for a stupid marathon without training then fell sick and the time my boyfriend decided it'd be fun to be in Canada away from me for 4 freaking months.
So if I do the math, I should be...6 and turning 7. Now that just makes more sense. Okay so the truth is I clearly don't want to grow up. I'm dreading adulthood and I'm pretty sure adults understand that. They pay bills, run errands and be all adult-y and stuff.
When you're young, you think freedom comes with independence. The fact is you only gain freedom from your parents (that doesn't mean they're completely out of your life, I just mean you call the shots now) but you become a slave to the world. Independence is not another word for freedom for sure.
The world be like, WERK. Give us all your moneh! Pop babies! Wake early or no breakfast! Make decisions! Think! Don't drink and drive! Slave to the world right there. (Seriously though, don't drink and drive.)
It's just so hard being an adult. What if I screw up?
No comments:
Post a Comment