Nineteen As Hell

It's hard to write about nice things when I'm five days away from turning nineteen and fifteen minutes away from getting intoxicated. I've been listening to three bands. The Mars Volta, Pink Floyd, and Tame Impala, and none of them are helping me lose this glitchy sense of reality I've seemed to adopt over the past few months. I don't feel like I'm becoming an responsible adult, I feel like I'm the youngest I've ever been, actually. 

I have figured out a lot of things since I have been here. I've figured out that everyone feels the way I did when I was sixteen, and they have no capacity to care about anything humane anymore. Also, men aren't real, and if they are, I want nothing to do with them. I think of people in souls now and that's the only thing I decided I'm going to try and find. 

It's only December of my first year of college but I think I already have my life planned out and I know this because I'm more assertive and I don't do whatever anyone wants because it's a waste of my time usually. I'm a sucker for new experiences and exploring people but I'm also very stubborn and I think that was the aspect of myself that I lost this year. It's nice getting it back - there's something rewarding about dropping a conversation completely dead or exiting the room when things get over my head. I feel and importance about not wasting my time and if someone is dragging along behind me, I'm fine if I leave them.

I understand completely the imperfection of the human race but I think I grew up with so much imperfection that it killed me and my soul walks around like a ghost now, because I know how little my time deserves to be wasted. I'm accepting ego-centrism.