Nothing Box

Understanding Twenty Two

Six days ago I turned twenty two. You could see me derping around that sentence. I swear I was just 16 yesterday!

But good news, I found my sanity! It was lying right next to my mid life crisis.

And here comes the irksome benefits of social media. We can be whatever we want on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. It’s so strange that many people choose to be stupid. And I am here adding their doltishness to my 101 good-deeds-to-be-a-better-person. Does that makes me stupid too?

By the way I am talking about my mid life crisis.

I have talked to people my age and asked them about the famous MLC phenomenon and what they do about it. One great friend answered:

“I nearly considered running away, avoiding responsibilities, and blaming loved ones for my own guilt and self loathing as a hobby.”

No doubt we clicked.

Another friend respond,

“Gym, Diet, New hairstyle, Beard, 50 Shades of Grey.”

Well, that’s going pretty well.

Another friend remarked,

“Stop it. WE’RE ADULTS.”

Woah! When did that happen? And how do I make it stop?

Couldn’t you see it? We’re like zombies trying to eat our own brains! And it’s in Alert Level 4.

And I am here all chocked up with my monsters plus the gratifyingly killing to-do’s below,

*Spending more time in the bath room
*Doing laps with sad songs on
*Thinking of doing a bungee jump
*Feeling a little maniac
*Thinking seriously about getting a tattoo
*Staring at the night sky silently whispering “I wish I was a star.”
*Setting aside Sunday nights for deliberating self pity
*Talking with friends in professional english, and
*Satisfyingly Facebook-stalking people and essentially be jealous about every aspect of their lives

I know. I am so doomed.

But then again, an hour a day of contemplation in the bath room makes me think, do these things that happen at midlife is really a crisis? At some point, I felt like it was a desperate pull to live my life the way I want it to be, not the one I’m ‘supposed’ to.

I even hear voices inside my head repeating I want, I want, I want, but I don’t know what I want or how to get it. I hardly know who I am anymore. I go on instinct. And my instinct mostly pushes me toward adventures I won’t grasp until I look back on them.

Maybe Life can only be understood backward, but one must live it forward.

So, I’ll just leave it there.

PS. I don’t understand either.

PPS. This is me at twenty two.

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