I have so much Netflix to do this weekend. Ugh, I don’t know how I’m going do it all.
I don’t understand the concept of adulthood. When does one officially become an adult? I was 17 last year and will be 20 next year. All it took was 2014 to add three years to my age. I still feel like a kid. And I’m sure that high schoolers would no longer see me as one of them. Which is fine, though I was in my teens, am in my teens, I was never a teenager. I was never one of them. All I know is that I am terrified of what future will bring. I don’t know if I am good enough. I don’t know what I am doing. I was told to swim the Pacific Ocean without a lifejacket or swimming lessons. Now, now I am floating. Aiming for shore.
If I was an author, I’d go into bookstores and find the shelf with my books, randomly sign one, and put it back on the shelf to be sold.
You’d ruin my clean, new, and perfect book. Don’t do that.