22 years old and not willing to grow up.
I guess that’s why I am an adolescent in many ways.
There is this vision we have when we are kids, to grow up and change the world.
That’s what I thought when I was a kid.I thought I would make the world a better place. I would bring joy. My family would rejoice.
Here I am, 22 and a half years after my birth, 17 and more from when those dreams where dated. Where am I?
What have I done?
I am confused, miserable,angry and lonely. Not alone but lonely. I am not Miss goody shoes anymore and I hate that. I am 22 and a half years old and I haven’t made the world any better. I haven’t made myself any better.
I am 22 and a half years old. I prefer to be lost in the other worlds between the covers of a book than to confront reality. It’s easier to cling to the pages of other worlds and believe that everything will always be better. It’s easier to ignore the world outside, the one where little kids starve and people die of cancer, the one where people lose their dear ones for no fault of their own.
It’s easier to be a kid and to be happy despite all . It’s easier to love . It’s easier to quarrel and make up in 2 minutes flat.It’s easier not to have enemies. It’s easier .
I do not want to let go. I am miserable. It’s time to grow up . I do not want to let go lest I forget who i was.