Monologuing

It’s February of the year that I turn 21 years old.  My birthday is in October, so it’s far too early to be thinking about it, but I am living the twenty-first year of my life as I type this, and dammit I feel old.  I remember writing silly blog entries in my various websites hosted by everyone imaginable (sans Oprah and The Pope) and I started when I was 13 years old.  I didn’t think I was young back then, but I was young back then, and I would post about the dumbest things.  Remember when LiveJournal was invite only?  That’s when I first got a LiveJournal, and I would post about silly things that happened in my life.  I would write about how much I loved writing, and my writing back then sucked.

I mean, yeah my writing still sucks, but at least it’s much better than when I was 14 years old.

I can’t picture myself as a 40 year old.  I still feel like a 12 year old right now, like I’m still going through puberty.  I love all sorts of child-like things, and I’m glad I still do.  I would get made fun of for liking these things when I was 12 years old, but now I take pride in enjoying things like Nick Jr., and pet stores, and even playgrounds.  Maybe the fact that I still look like a 12 year old is part of the reason why I feel like like one.

I wish I was immortal.  I would love to be this age forever and see how the world ends.  I’d like to see how we would evolve, or even devolve.

I just can’t become old.  I know I’d be a great mother, even a great grandmother, but I love my life right now, and I love my age, and I am very grateful.  So what if I’m unlucky in some fields?  I am happy, and I would like to be happy forever.

Also, it would be really awesome if I had to save the world via adventure.   It would be even more awesome if I could control time.