(no subject)
If you pay attention, life's basically just this on-going education. Unoriginal, I know, but cut me some slack, I'm still learning. There's a lot left I haven't figured out and a lot I probably never will, but I've picked up plenty along the way, and one of the biggies is this: there's a huge difference between growing up and being a grown-up. Getting older has never been a guarantee of wisdom or maturity, so the whole assumption that your elders know better? Doesn't really make a lot of sense. Sure, they've been through more in the way of years, but that doesn't necessarily prove anything. Like I said, if you're gonna learn anything, you've gotta pay attention. Lots of people only pay attention to themselves. They don't learn. Or they don't want to. Like my parents.
So turning eighteen today? It doesn't really mean anything. I might be an adult now by legal standards, but I started growing up a long time ago.
I started, in fact, right around the time my required-by-adolescence distaste for adults grew into a healthy mistrust of them. It's been less than two years and if you ask me, that's what's weird here. So much has changed, but it's only taken as long as going from a sophomore to a senior. Not taking into account the fact that I quit school for a while there.
Alright, so being eighteen's a little weird. It doesn't actually feel any different from seventeen, not that I expected it to, but I've spent so long automatically assuming the worst of adults that it's strange to be among their number. But that's the thing: it's only a number. The real test is whether or not they act any better than children.
Okay, so I'm getting a little philosophical for a girl playing on the swings instead of doing her homework, but I think I'm entitled to a few minutes of introspection. It's like, different or not, the day's a big reminder of everything I ran away from by coming here, willingly or not. In a way, I guess, that's the best possible gift I could get: maybe a while longer, I don't have to run.
At least, not until a breeze cuts past, tugging a few loose sheets of paper free of the pile I left next to the swings when I sat down and sends them scattering away. As I hop down to chase after them, a little bit of running's required.
[Closed to new threads, thanks, and I'll be getting back to these shortly. ♥]
So turning eighteen today? It doesn't really mean anything. I might be an adult now by legal standards, but I started growing up a long time ago.
I started, in fact, right around the time my required-by-adolescence distaste for adults grew into a healthy mistrust of them. It's been less than two years and if you ask me, that's what's weird here. So much has changed, but it's only taken as long as going from a sophomore to a senior. Not taking into account the fact that I quit school for a while there.
Alright, so being eighteen's a little weird. It doesn't actually feel any different from seventeen, not that I expected it to, but I've spent so long automatically assuming the worst of adults that it's strange to be among their number. But that's the thing: it's only a number. The real test is whether or not they act any better than children.
Okay, so I'm getting a little philosophical for a girl playing on the swings instead of doing her homework, but I think I'm entitled to a few minutes of introspection. It's like, different or not, the day's a big reminder of everything I ran away from by coming here, willingly or not. In a way, I guess, that's the best possible gift I could get: maybe a while longer, I don't have to run.
At least, not until a breeze cuts past, tugging a few loose sheets of paper free of the pile I left next to the swings when I sat down and sends them scattering away. As I hop down to chase after them, a little bit of running's required.
[Closed to new threads, thanks, and I'll be getting back to these shortly. ♥]