I turned 18 last week, on the 25th of March. And I don't know if I have a reason to be ecstatic or otherwise. It was ironic to actually spend my birthday at the funeral parlor. Ironic in the sense that birthdays are supposed to celebrate life. But the real point is that I am now 18. Old enough to vote. Old enough to find a job. Old enough to flash my driver's license at walking pedestrians as you drive by (Well, that is if I have a driver's license).
Being 18, to some, is the age wherein you start having second thoughts with life. There are some who fear that they are getting older. Yet, there are others who interpret this age as the "Age of Doing Whatever You Like, and Nobody Should Give An *F About It". For me, it's that chapter of one's life is not about getting laid, or having your first shot of premium vodka, or showing off your pubic hair to your unsuspecting friends while you scream out loud, "CAN'T TOUCH THIS BIATCH!". It's about emerging from your shell. From your childish shell that's been shackling you for quite some time.
I don't give much importance to the fact that I am now 18, and should enjoy special privileges. It's a "coming of age"; big deal. I don't get amused of myself when I'm getting older. In fact, Reyshimar will still be the same old eccentric homicidal maniac, no matter how old he gets.
And that, my friends, is my creed.
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