musing on human nature
500 dollars richer, but wise beyond my years, as a result of 9-day hiatus from my 'normal' life. embittered, i embark on the 'life' journey of adulthood. my nineteenth birthday draws closer--just over 5 months from today-- and i finally am feeling like i passed through the first step of adulthood.
at some point during my 18th year of life, i have thus realise that age has nothing to do with anything. it's a formality. thus, although by american standards i gain the freedom of being an 'adult' at age 18, adulthood isn't granted until at least 21, perhaps even 25. i'm not sure which.
i must say, adulthood has a slight tang i can't put my finger on; somethign reminescent of the flavor of lemonaide, i suppose. i'm not quite sure what i mean. i do know that it is everything i thought it would be, as i mentioned to TJ
being an adult is everything i thought it would be; i get to eat as much ice cream as late as i want at night.
i've done nothing but go to work and come home for these past nine days, and i suddenly realise i don't want to live like this. dreading my fate as i set up for customers, and stumbling out as though i had been a victim of assult and battery as i leave( in some cases, truthful since those bar stool keep leaving my shins looking like an abuse case)
as i take the order from a table, i watch the young ones carefully. i imagine that i have the gift of forsight, in a strange, deadzone kind of way, and wonder if those kids know what i do. i wish i could warn them, and i warn the one who refuses to drink his milk that his mom got him that if he didn't drink it, he'd end up a meager physical laborer like myself, but he seemed to stupid to heed my words. his eyes round and my mom snickering, i highly doubt he even understood the difference in blue collar and white collar workers. poor sap, so naiive.
the more i think about it, the more i am scared i will pull a meaneauver like the ones i write about, or so beautifully depicted in m night shymalan's village.
i stare at the speech grade, laying here on my desk, it's very purity of white paper threatened to be covered in a crimson display of strabwrrys and choclate that left there moment earlier. the strawberries seem so trivial right now. not quite worth my limited energy to move.
i shouldn't leave myself alone ever. i think too much.
at some point during my 18th year of life, i have thus realise that age has nothing to do with anything. it's a formality. thus, although by american standards i gain the freedom of being an 'adult' at age 18, adulthood isn't granted until at least 21, perhaps even 25. i'm not sure which.
i must say, adulthood has a slight tang i can't put my finger on; somethign reminescent of the flavor of lemonaide, i suppose. i'm not quite sure what i mean. i do know that it is everything i thought it would be, as i mentioned to TJ
being an adult is everything i thought it would be; i get to eat as much ice cream as late as i want at night.
i've done nothing but go to work and come home for these past nine days, and i suddenly realise i don't want to live like this. dreading my fate as i set up for customers, and stumbling out as though i had been a victim of assult and battery as i leave( in some cases, truthful since those bar stool keep leaving my shins looking like an abuse case)
as i take the order from a table, i watch the young ones carefully. i imagine that i have the gift of forsight, in a strange, deadzone kind of way, and wonder if those kids know what i do. i wish i could warn them, and i warn the one who refuses to drink his milk that his mom got him that if he didn't drink it, he'd end up a meager physical laborer like myself, but he seemed to stupid to heed my words. his eyes round and my mom snickering, i highly doubt he even understood the difference in blue collar and white collar workers. poor sap, so naiive.
the more i think about it, the more i am scared i will pull a meaneauver like the ones i write about, or so beautifully depicted in m night shymalan's village.
i stare at the speech grade, laying here on my desk, it's very purity of white paper threatened to be covered in a crimson display of strabwrrys and choclate that left there moment earlier. the strawberries seem so trivial right now. not quite worth my limited energy to move.
i shouldn't leave myself alone ever. i think too much.
posted by redhead at 21:35
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