I am now four days older. A year away from celebrating my princess-like debut party which only happens in my dreams and a year after being called the "sweet sixteen". What am I supposed to be? Who am I supposed to be? If am eighteen, I will be going to the salon every week, having foot spa, hair spa and facial treatment. I might be getting my driver's license and all these sort of credit cards that will reflect my being independent and responsible. If I am eighteen, I will be very busy with my studies because I am expected to graduate as soon as possible. Last year, after celebrating the sixteenth year of my life, I became busy choosing the right clothes for me, something to prove that I am Ms. Friendster, Ms. Cool and Ms. Blogger all at the same time. I was busy clipping a pink ribbon in my hair then. I was on highschool and busy with girl and boy friends and love life. I was busy writing love letters signed anonymous and smiling like how hello kitty does it.
After all, seventeen ain't that sweet. It is about being caught in the middle with nothing to do and nothing to feel. You know, empty. People expects you to be no one or to be caught in between. They expect you to feel what you are feeling when it is Monday morning and you woke up early, got up early and leave early only to find out that while you are on your way to school, an accident in front of you shall happen and you got no choice but to wait maybe for two hours with the suffocating heat and your professor counting every second that you are late. Being seventeen is about putting yourself on the shoe of a thread of beef (if ever it has a shoe) and being stuck in between teeth that you have to wait for several hours until the person brushes his or her teeth and finally, you will be washed away and flushed away on the sink. This is what being seventeen is all about.
What they hid from me is that if I reach seventeen, I will still be reminded of that nauseating feeling when I was three. (Read LIFE IS A GAME post.) The feeling of being stuck on the floor with everyone watching you. Every blink you take feels like crying and so you will regret that you ever blinked. Of course this doesn't happen to everyone else. Maybe just for me. Maybe it's only me. The thought of being stuck really kills me inside and maybe to post is what this feeling's weakness is. Whenever I post, feelings start to fade or slip and I am forgetting it even for a short span of time, but at least I forgot it. This is in a way, being claustrophobic. This is having a fear on closed spaces that even if you scream, even if you try to get out, you cannot and know not how. The idea of being on the spotlight of the world makes me sicker. What am I supposed to do next that they will be proud of? Right now I feel so sick inside and I know that I am fed up. I know that I am worn out. I know that I am thrown up but I am throwing myself even more. What I do after turning seventeen is that I maximize the 24 hours of my life, loving every single minute of it and never feeling even a single spot of sympathy for my poor self. This is about crashing all my limitations and showing everyone that I am superman and fatigue is out of my vocabulary. Cups of coffee are now my best buds because they keep me going. They pushes me to do what I have to or at least make me believe that I still can even if I cannot.
Sigh. How I wish I am a year older. It must have been different.