Thirteen days to go. Thirteen last days of my teen years. It's the morning of the twenty-fifth, and well... There are some recollections to do, some memories to visit, and a lot to contemplate on.
I feel like an NBA player, or an NBA team perhaps...? It's like I'm nearing the end of the regular season when everything's just so light, and I'm heading towards the playoffs, where everything gets bloody. Fouls are harder, more physical play is allowed, more pressure, and everyone's just more intense.
So, I'm nearing the end of my teenage years. It's time to turn the big TWO-OH. Twenty. I'm excited, but kind of sad. I'm ending my life as a teenager. I wished that I could have lived forever in the teens, but time cannot stop for me or anyone. So, the most has to be made out of what I have left, so... let us be irresponsible and immature for thirteen more days. How does that sound, who wishes to join me? Whoever will, if you can read this blog, when you see me, punch me in the arm, I'd enjoy that. Make me feel like a kid, one last stretch before everything gets to being serious.
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