Tags

, ,

10 more days. 11 more nights.

10 more days. 11 more nights. Then I’m going to be a 20-year-old confused-as-a-freak girl. Or lady? Whatever.

10 more days. 11 more nights. And I’d be celebrating my second decade of existence (or maybe “non-existence” will be a more fitting term, if you’d ask the people I’ve been with).

10 more days. 11 more nights. Then I would be forced to lessen my reading time, turn down the volume of my music player, and go out there. Like, really go out there. Is that even a good thing?

10 more days. 11 more nights. Dyed and cut my own hair. Had three pairs of ear piercings. Have chosen to work after taking a two-year course over studying for a BS degree on a famous university (or maybe not). What else could go wrong with me? People ask me that. Like come on! I don’t do illegal drugs. I’m not into alcohol. And I’m not into blush-ons, curlers, eyebrow pencils and dangling earrings. I just want to read. And listen to music. And play music maybe. And earn my own hard-earned moneeeeeyyyy. 😉

10 more days. 11 more nights. And my decisions in life would be more and more legit than before. Yes. 🙂

10 more days. 11 more nights. It’s kind of saddening to get older and be conscious about my age. And my achievements. And the outcome of my decisions. But I have learned something along the way: you can only regret a decision you can’t stand for and fight for. Time to wakey, my little brainey! 🙂

10 more days. 11 more nights. It would just be me being older for everyone. But for me, it would be me being more determined and focused. Maybe more mature, I hope.

10 more days. 11 more nights. Stoked.

10 more days. 11 more nights.

10 more days. 11 more nights.

Advertisements