Twenty in a post-post modern world where has the time really gone. I will be seventeen in a months time and I have lived the life a of a pig and then artificially mortified to be cleansed. To live life to the fullest it's advertised to “stop and survey” the blandest advice. No one can be individually unique in the prepubescent ages everything and one is the same the depth is shallow and equivalent to dropping a spoon in a well hearing it clang against the stone than void. Living life by stopping and surveying will progressively age you, no one wants to have the thoughts of a prude man. I struggle with myself daily weigh my sins, weigh my virtues where do I stand. I’ve rolled around in muck something of a milquetoast, and although it was only no longer than twelve months ago it manifests as ancient history. How can I look back and walk forward, I daydream at mistakes that have a far deeper presence then a vehicle speeding sixty miles per hour as I cross a street. Everyday I grow but im still attached to the child who lived in me six years ago. To conform, to involve myself I danced and acted as if I was in a play doing things that will have had me in a shelf deeper in inferno. Falling in the pitfall, an endless spiral staircase of doing things only to have a thicker makeup. Of course a juvenile will be a juvenile there is no excuse to involve myself in the underbelly of cesspool of juvenile garbage, and have the people I put the utmost faith into-than those who loved me-betray me a blackfist through the back into the chest, of judas magnitude to the feeble mind then. Money really is what they enjoyed; most of my company,-these early friends-I caked my self enough to show I had something of worth, I offered to split cost of whatever they were trying to get, to get lost even more. At one point I couldn't help myself and enjoyed every minute of being blacked out using relaxants. But to look now, only months or so of time has passed and realise the critical state I’ve left those who genuinely had reason to care and so; all under the masquerade. It’s funny how social economical backgrounds and society’s force to conform can manage a person. The difficulties to cross the threshold of my safety to adulthood. To bring a child into the world can be looked at as monstrous; the world will always be made up of challenges, mistakes and, obstacles to overcome and why bring suffering to another existence. The struggle for individuality has always been of competitive nature naturally in pubescence: during the twenties flappers struggled to show individualistic traits and break the chains of what was normal for women. In junior high all children hit a brick wall it's true. The difference between one of my peers in their first year to the second is indistinguishable but those in their third had hormones flowing as tidal waves. During my second year I had been at the beach with my family-during a vacation period it was never uncommon for my family to be out in the sun with the sea- my family always had loved the beach. The waves were big today and my brother and uncle were out paddling with the moving waters. I desperately wanted to join them, wanted to be involved and without question paddled out till the water rose to my brows, it never occured to me I could drown, I could just keep paddling. The water stood still and patient abruptly with silence and my brother and uncle were in shooting distance of flat waters. I spoke as loudly as I could “Its best if we head back to shore everyone is getting hungry” or something like that while flippantly moving my feet and cupping the ocean and spitting it out just to stay afloat. I’m told to head back somewhat disappointed but exhausted beyond belief;the waters rose again. The lifeguard begins to whistle us in fearing we’d drift, I paddle, I fling, I flip, and toss, and chop my arms to paddle back. But it's useless, soon i'm rising seeing above the sea-level with a wave of gigantic proportions having me fly with the seagulls, drift with the water like a bass, seeing the shoreline, to the sand, to the sidewalks with people walking arms locked viewing the sun’s dusk, bikers and pigeons picking at any leftovers on the floor. Nothing last forever, the wave shifted and picked me up only to have me slammed against the ocean floor, shells eroded to points ,seaweed, and the deep indigo of the waters was all I had seen for hardly a second. Crabs residence’s collapsed with a hint of blue, sand and sea water sucked up nasally as my head crashed in the purble blue spectrum of the ocean. I was knocked unconscious from the impact and woke moments after on the seashore coughing up all that was held in me. For a moment not enough to be called a second or even glance; just a peek I saw everything of what the red sun draped its autumn crimson, tucked the beach in a fruit velvet cover and all at once so soon after, I saw the dark blue of what lay under the day. Even now I can relate to it, pubescent idiocy, you grow, you collect to obtain a foundation of facts you crystalize your intelligence. The ability to learn is consistent throughout, you hit top of primary school your thrown in the bottom of the barrel in secondary school, you struggle through and your introduced with high school then college each a league of its own worth. Were grown and broken down consistently tis the nature of our society. More and more I can relate to my youth and understand on that hot summer day, sun raying me, with sea water choking me on the shore; the vertigo and throbbing of my head, flashes of lipstick red to the deepest blues. The thumping never left me it made a home in my head and heeded itself there. The standing upheld in society currently is a bore. To isolate not oneself but emotions is dangerous i’m one to listen, never to speak, i’d consider it a burden but oh so naturally I can listen and discern dialogue. I don’t rush on my smartphone when someone important is near, I don’t change the way I speak when I need to look like the words I value, are of value. I can relate to someone and engage about them, but never me. Naturally when i’ve hid all I want to be taboo and master a mesmerising glare to speak where I want a conversation; I can never become a great speaker, the words would never emulate the manic emotions. But if I were to say I see myself as an individual, unique, would be a lie and dishonest. I wake up and pick clothes that match, I wear headphones to not appear idle, I have a value for my peers thoughts. I think less and less of my peers and even my elders day by day but I can never change the fixed digit that I have society at, in my system. Abstract is a good description of where I think im viewed in the all mighty world; personally I can never pinpoint where I value or see myself that would require me to understand my self, fester at those thoughts and then have the ability to speak my thoughts into words and still, it would come short. I don’t believe i'm personally nihilistic I have value for life, I like the smell of rain, I think the sun looks gorgeous along the rows of palm trees in my school yard, I have personal hobbies I strive for, and goals that I have targeted. One of my favorite quotes “My ambition is handicapped by my laziness” this does not necessarily devalue effort, because my peers who do seem to care and be full of effort deserve what they struggle for. I can view myself as being stuck between what is real and what is not, nihilism but a lack of belief of so. Maybe im still a child and will grow with the dreams of a child, and maybe face dishonest truths in the nine to fives and reach a revolution within myself; and to be frank to grow up. I think the time for me to achieve what I want will come when the time to achieve is right. To say where I put myself in society right now, is much more difficult for myself to understand. How can I describe something I have no knowledge of. When we read we only take in what we can associate or understand, we take in specific things we have previous associations with. When you are reading and come to a description of a tree it can viewed within your thoughts itself but if you're reading about a Japanese apple-pear tree,or something exotic with you have no associations of, you are left to your own devices and are much more likely to associate the description of the tree than the apple-pear tree. A crude example but understandable. I can describe where I was a year ago in society and every day before that up to primary school but where I stand now is a broken mirror I feel as if the present is something that needs reflection when it is past. I can write a book of textbook width on such a specific topic and be with Charles Dickens like descriptions; using 40 pages just to describe the tone of my position and invest you into my world, but where I stand now, to describe may be possible but to insert all emotion and have a true self value for myself is much more than I can do now. To be put simply: growing pains.