Don't let my baby-faced and youthful exterior fool you, I've just turned 22 on April 1st. Sorry if a certain line of Taylor Swift infiltrated your mind, she's been around for the whole weekend for me too.
I've felt rattled ever since the day I turned 20 because while 18 is technically the legal age of being an adult, 20 just seems like the real adult age. They still treat you like a child at 18 for the most part. I've never liked the idea of growing older, even though it's a privilege robbed of others too soon. But every time I feel a weird heart beat, throbbing pain in my wrists, numbness in my fingers to the elbow, pain in my back and shoulders, and the list goes on--I can't help but wonder why I'm having what I can only assume are first signs to bigger problems. I can't imagine the invisible internal stuff I haven't felt yet. Sometimes I wonder why my soul chose such a weak physical vessel to settle in. But then I remind myself I've made it this way with my choices...
22 is going to be a big year. I can feel it like a sailor who squints at the horizon and up at the distant clouds and knows something will happen. Graduation exhibition, graduation, a month and a half of travelling, then a life without school-- and then what? I've made a list of goals for 2018.
Maybe I'm trying to put those goals out there so that I can be accountable for them. Anyway, onwards in life another year older. Hopefully, another year wiser.