Over two weeks since my last post? Wow.
So apparently I'm 18. This is still a surprise to me, even though it's been a fact for a few months now. I just don't feel any older. I went through the last 6 or 7 years thinking that by the time I hit 18, 19, I'd be an adult. I'd be focused, mature, motivated. That my teen years were where what comprised the transition from childhood to adulthood. But I guess it doesn't work like that. I'm still unmotivated. I still procrastinate. I'm still wandering through each day. I guess I don't feel any different to 17, 16, 15. I still fall in love...For some reason I thought that love was different for adults. That it was about compromise and accepting flaws and loving the one you're with. I guess I thought wild romance, infatuation and crushed were solely the domain of the young and restless. Which makes no sense, because every love song and love story has been written but "adults". So I guess I'm wrong about that. And purpose. I thought that when you became an adult, you got purpose. You get motivation, you start planning ahead. Watching my parents shopping, working, doing whatever they do for fun, it always seemed like they knew what they're doing. No staring at the wall wondering what to do, no filling time with pointless activities, because they always know what they should be doing. And now that I realise I'm not that, I realise that perhaps they aren't either. It makes me realise how they really are human too, with their own problems and flaws. And that scares me. My father was my first role model, like most boys, and I think every little boy wants to grow up to be strong and brave like his dad. It's a scary thing to realise that he has problems too. That sometimes he just makes it up as he goes along, because he doesn't know where he's going. It's chilling to realise that not just when I reach 20 or 30, but when I'm 40, 50, 60, 70, each year I'll still be asking myself; What now?
Admittedly, this is also a good thing. One of the most freeing things I've ever experienced was the realisation that after November this year, I can do whatever the fuck I want. If I wanted, I could book a flight to Canada and live there the rest of my life. Enrol in a cooking class. Work in a call center. Do nothing but read Dickens for a month. Go skydiving. Become an astronaut. At any point in my life, I can look in the mirror and decide that, fuck it, I'ma learn German. Of course, some things might take time, have consequences, be beyond my capabilities but my point is I could try it. After 13 years of knowing that I'm going to spend the upcoming year going to school and learning shit, the realisation that in the next 70-odd years, I control everything that I do. It's a strange feeling.
So there's my rambling for these past few weeks. As you might be able to tell, I'm not really focused on my exams.
Sorry bout the wall of text.