Breathing

Today’s one of those day where you realise how old you actually are and start to freak out a bit. Or a lot. I’m currently sitting in this plaza on campus, circled by heavily trafficked streets, but right in the middle is plopped this lovely green patch of grass, with beautiful yellow daises finally sprouting up alongside the sidewalks. Tables are scattered all around and there’s a (really expensive) small grille in the the centre where there’s all these fancy business people sipping on beers and mixed drinks more expensive than the large Starbucks drink I just devoured. There’s also all these smaller kiosks selling food from which origin’s I don’t think I could ever name. Behind me, university students are rushing to class or to eat or to nowhere in particular. The Cathedral proudly stands, jutting out amongst the overcast skies.

It’s a peaceful day.

I’m coming up on my final week (ish) of my first year in college/university/older person school, what have you. What a year it’s been. From starting school, to hating school, to transferring schools, to loving school, it’s been a journey to hell and back. 

But as I’m sitting here, flipping between editing my short story piece and people watching, it’s slightly daunting to think that I’m on this brink and I don’t know what’s below me. My majors are still haphazardly thrown together and I still don’t have a concrete title for what I want as a job. I’m constantly waiting to hear back from a job that would look really good on resumes. I’m trying to organise as much as I can right now to prepare myself to move into my first ever apartment. I have about 14 more months left of being a teenager. It’s just weird. Really, really weird.

I wish I could see myself through someone else’s eyes. What they perceive me as. Why they do. I’m sitting here watching all of these people carry on their daily lives. I’m doing the same. But it’s so different. A lot of people I know are studying things that make sense -- pharmacy, nursing, engineering, computer science. Oh, I’m a journalism and film double major -- well, as of right now. It might change. I dunno, I want to work for the media.

A lot of people think it’s silly, what I want do. You can’t live off of social media. But why can't I?  Where do I want my life to go? Media. Easy. I want to work for celebrities. With celebrities, hell even be one. I love the psychoanalytic structure behind it all. It’s so interesting.

A little girl just walked up to me to complain about the helicopters in the sky. ‘It’s too loud!’ she shouted, shoving her fingers in her ears. ‘Do this with me!’ she begged me as her mom was talking quickly into a phone. I’m going to have children at some point. I am going to responsible for another human being at some point in my life. That’s terrifying as hell. I’m obviously not thinking or worrying about this right now at the point I am at my life because children are far, far, far down the road. But isn’t it weird to think of where we all will be in 5, 10, 15 years?

College changes you. I’ll be the first one to tell you. I know my mantra whilst advising my younger friends is to be ‘prepared for the changes you’ll overcome in high school.’ I can tell you that the jump from high school to college is the strangest change you’ll encounter yet (Unless you lose, like, a limb or something. I’m sorry if that happens. Ouch.)

This time last year my main concern was praying my prom dress was going to fit after it gets fitted. I was hardly doing any work and all I wanted was to put on that stupid cap and gown and get handed that piece of paper that says ‘YOU’RE FREE.’

Now I’m preparing for massive exams, desperately trying to plan out my next 3 years, trying to fit all the requirements to graduate with some sort of degree that also just says ‘YOU’RE FREE’ but now you have a lot of money to pay back.

We spend a lot of time reflecting and worrying. It’s such a beautiful contradiction. We cringe at the past which causes us to worry about the future, thus ignoring the present. Why? The past happened. It’s over. The future is inconceivable. We can’t plan it. Who knows what can happen in a month, a week, a day, hell, even an hour? We’re all victims of our own game.

My dad always used to tell me ‘Ya know, Ab, sometimes you gotta slow down in order to go faster,’ when I was doing my math homework. I’d get angry and throw a pencil at him, begging him to do it for me. I thought it was a stupid phrase. And then I grew up.

We really only have a short period of time on this earth. I’ve finally realised this. I’m doing what I want to do. If I want to spend a lot of time alone, so be it. I don’t need to be surrounded by people. If I find joy out of eating healthily, working out, living a healthy lifestyle. So be it. I don’t need people to tell me I’m wasting my time. Hell, I took a one credit ballet course next semester because I wanted to. Sometimes, we have to YOLO the shit out of our time here.

I’m happy. I’m content with life. Are there times when I’m overwhelmed, or angry, or upset about something? Naturally. It’s humanistic. I wasn’t happy a year ago. The jump I’ve encountered is massive. I’m not Abby the High Schooler. I’m Abby the Young Adult Who Is Pursuing Her Dreams and Is Leading a Happy, Consistent Life.

This Abby is way cooler, anyways. Thank you for reading my thoughts.

I hope you’re having a good day. You only get one April 11, 2013. Embrace it.

Stay beautiful.

xx

A