I’m kinda freaking out. 21. I’m going to turn twenty one. It’s like a milestone. Man. I don’t even behave like I’m 17! How am I going to be 21? All mature and responsible, well INTO the twenties. Who would have thought the twenties would arrive so early? It’s like, I’ve JUST gotten adjusted to being a teen. And I’m already a twenties girl? I mean TWENTIES, for God’s sake. Woah. “Hey, I’m Shubhada, I’m all of 21 years of age. Yes, I know I look like I just passed the tenth grade, but I’m actually doing my post grad right now.”
POST GRAD. POST grad. Man, I mean these post grad people are supposed to be calm and composed who know where exactly their life is going. I mean, these people have a grip over their life. And me? Well I’m just happy if I’ve made plans to go out with friends the next day. A grip, a future, a goal, a dream? Ha-ha. These things mean nothing to me. How am I going to handle being a twenty one year old girl?
… Or should I say ‘woman’. Ugh. I don’t want this. Any of this. Can I stop this in any way? Like stop, just stop, okay, time? Please!
See? This is what I’m talking about. I make stupid requests to abstract things like time. And I’m twenty one. Would any twenty one year old (I’m getting tired this term now) behave like this? No.