Age 20: it's not old. But I realise some people are dead when, or before, they even hit this. Some are fighting wars. Some are horribly disfigured. Some are homeless. Some are without a family. Some are broken. Some are lost. As I said, some are dead - physically, if not mentally, and mentally, if not physically, or perhaps a combination. On the other hand, some are fruitfully prosperous in an array of possibilities. However, I'm not one to envy these. My focus, since leaving my 'teens' behind, has been a, some may feel, irrational preoccupation with those who suffer, or are just extraordinary for reasons other than fame, celebrity, money and limelight. No, I'm not preoccupied with these because I'm sick minded, with putrid intentions, and wish to fulfil some sick, sadistic fantasies. I refer to these more, because they bring reality home. They cut deep, deeper than some one-in-a-million teenage singer with her rich father, child screen personality, 'singer' and actress later days, and bolshy publicity antics. (In fact, to say these 'cut' at all would be false, really, unless you consider how these cut my patience into pieces...) I see the world through an adult's eyes now, realising I'm far from the self-assured, know-it-all adolescent I was. I know more than then, for certain, and discover with each year. Even now I can take hindsight to when I was, for example, 14, and criticise it with the same reflections as I could with myself only a year previously.
I do miss those years. While I wouldn't change them, for the most part, I wish I could revisit the tumult of adolescence. Not with the knowledge I possess now, however, but simply for the experience. I do miss it, sometimes. I miss School. I miss stressing over one piece of homework a term. I miss my friends. I miss being the outcast. I miss my aimless walks on lunch breaks, alone, with my iPod. I miss being physically and mentally virginal. I miss extremities, such as not knowing what sex feels like, to simplicities and trivialities, such as having public shyness excused on youth. That whimsical feeling, that bliss, I never experience now. I never will have the unknown again.
A conscience is such a damned thing... For the most part, of course, I don't think of this. Otherwise, I'd be quite depressed and objectified, which I'm far from. I cherish my life right now, my family, my relationship, my privacy, and my small social circle. I may not be outgoing, but right now, I don't mind. I do, on the other hand, at times, feel held back. By what, exactly, I'm unsure yet. But I do know that, while my immediate situation is good, it's not what I want forever, understandably. I haven't found myself yet, I'm nowhere near it. I don't feel like it's too late to do so, by any means. Although, I do feel like I'd be ready to begin this soon. While I don't believe in golden opportunities dropping into my lap, I do feel that the more you focus on a desire, it will slip from you. The chance will approach you when you're least expecting, as has done so many times for things in my past.
I sometimes wonder if, to the outsider, I seem solitary or immature for focusing on studies, privacy, and a very restricted social circle. On the contrary, I have maturity. It just doesn't extend to having a job, a mortgage, a flat, and friends to get inconceivably drunk with at weekends. I prefer to harbour knowledge, eventually weaving myself into a person of valuable use in some positive way, be that on any scale which is right and accessible to me, when that time arrives.
I like to think I'm not the only person feeling this way, or who thinks these things. If I am, I suppose it's another unique trait I ought to be proud of. I'm relatively more proud of myself these days than in previous years. I still have much to master, but overall, I smile more because I'm happy now, not because I'm anxious and hiding.
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