Tuesday, February 20, 2007


For me, being 21 means...

You can't behave like a kid anymore.

You won't be able to enjoy the Mighty Morphing Power Rangers like you used to.

Toys don't come alive they moment you lay hands on them.

A pair of scissors is just a pair of scissors and not some spaceship like you used to imagine them to be.

Your parents can kick you out of the house and ask you to fend for yourself if you piss them off.

Your relatives are going to start asking whether you have a girlfriend.

Jazz the Jack Rabbit is lame.

Any argument is a waste of time.

Life is going to become a bore.

The frequency on your FM tuner just went down.

Clubbing becomes an extremely taxing activity.

Late nights out wear you out easily.

And the list goes on; it's non-exhaustive, I believe. It's strange what age does to us isn't it? My birthday's today by the way, and surprisingly, it doesn't feel anything like before. It seems eerily similiar to any other day.

Oh, and I forgot. I haven't even made a birthday wish. Maybe I should now and since it's my 21st, I shall grant myself two wishes. The first one is: I wish I wouldn't need a reason to wish in the first place. The second would be: I wish I could...

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