I’ve become more aware since the other day that i’m actually an adult. Yep i’m 23 but I don’t feel like it. I feel like i’m just turning 18 and the world and reality has just arrived at my doorstep. I also feel torn between being young and being old. I consider 24 and up old age. I know its weird but I just feel like once you hit 24 you’re no longer liable to being young, wild and free. That’s the age I see people really figuring out life; getting married, starting their family; trying to get that steady job; having friends over and discussing grown up things like politics, vacation spots, food and just life. I’ve also realised the things I can attain, that just because I want to do something doesn’t mean it will happen. Actions count not empty dreams. Its easy to want something and expect it to happen overnight.
But all I can think about is I want a house. Nothing grand just a beautiful house with lands stretching out on both sides. I want dogs. I want peace and quiet and waking up early in the mornings when the sky barely has any sketch of light blue or orange and just making coffee. And you can hear the radio playing soothing reggae in the background and maybe the tv news going, with what the weather is like and i”ll just sit there and watch the world begin. Just sit on those steps, enjoying morning chill and just drink coffee or maybe i’ll just have ginger tea instead. But that’s what made me realize i’m getting old. That I can do that one thing for the rest of my life.