XIX

July 12, 2007

Nineteen is just a transition. I don’t care much for the age itself, but what it means: I’m one year nearer twenty, one year nearer the two-decade mark ending my teenage stage. As if it was something to mourn for, no. But it is something to miss.

 

Time is an illusion, age (and pretty much everything else) is a state of mind. I’m not in the mood to preach—is this a change? Perhaps, a symptom of getting older. The whole the-world-is-against-me-and-don’t-understand-me phase is old enough to be discarded for something more practical, lasting and devoid of romance. What?

 

Surrender.

(more…)