Well, there is no more to it. I am 19 now. I am old. But I don’t feel old unless I look at somebody younger than me or stare at the name of my institution. I am in college now. And old people go to college. Time seemed to have moved faster than I ever expected. Or maybe it was just me not paying attention. Every day keeps passing and every other day feels the same as if I have been living the same day over and over. I don’t know what I am supposed to look up to when I wake up every day. I wake up to go through what I always have. A monotonous and mundane recurring schedule.
I have hopes and aspirations, yet I don’t feel I am doing enough to achieve them. Everything I do feels little in the scale of things I don’t do. I am bored. Extremely so. I, myself, am the cause of my boredom. I am the one who is haunting me in this world.
I feel I have so little time. But I know this is just an illusion. A day is a day. But I feel I cannot do anything in a day or even a year. One year goes by another and everything still feels the same. If things don’t change, I am supposed to bring forth change right?
I bring some change. Sometimes I jolt awake full of energy and enthusiasm. I smile and I laugh and try to make it different, to make it better. The change does not do anything. It is like trying to fill an elastic, sooner you let go and find it is back to how it was. You can’t keep pulling on forever and you are exhausted after that and disappointed.
I have grown up. There was no sense in denial. There was no sense of wonder in it. It was only that I was older than I was before. Less happy, but none the wiser.
I was less alive I suppose. There were chains, heavy and full of rust. Old ones. They bound many before me and now they wanted me in their clutches. They didn’t hurt, they just suffocated. Everybody went through this silently as possible. Was somebody hearing us? Waiting around the corner to say, “Hey, don’t dawdle. Act like you are supposed to act.”
It was a curse. It was needed. It was me growing up.