Juvenile dreams of adulthood.

Hello friends,

Instead of going to school, like I would if I didn’t have the day off, I spent my afternoon exploring with two friends. It was a very pleasant day that included a game of: “Spot the furrball.” We lost count after a while. Such an odd trend. I don’t see it. We went to this really cool music store and got to play all sorts of instruments. Highlights included a mint green acoustic guitar, some dude playing acoustic covers of Lady GaGa songs, a ginormous cello, a pink electric guitar and le grande finale – playing the banjo. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to play the banjo, but that was just an irrelevant technicality. The day also included fawning over pastel clothing that were the only indication that spring is on its way, eating pastries and discussing the future.

It all started with the ever-dreaded question: So, what are you going to do after high-school? Even though I was the one who brought it up, I couldn’t help but groan along with my friends. We started talking about the immense pressure that comes along with deciding what to do after all of this is done. We hear of grown-ups that changed careers on a whim and envy them for having the courage to be so spontaneous. We start dreaming of the ultimate life, being a culture journalist or a graphic designer or an art director. We laughed over the fact that it all started with saying: “I want a cool office that’s minimalistic with a mac computer and an orchid on the desk.”

The discussion got taken a few years back, to this one, when one of us mentioned turning eighteen. About how overrated it seems. Everyone makes a big deal about it and has grown-up dinners, or go clubbing or wishes for a car. Why is this birthday so different? The conversation eventually ended in us saying that we have to try this clubbing thing, even if it’s just to see what it’s like. You always hear about friends that met at a club, or flirts, or loves. It just seems like a totally different world. With rules. Do you dance? Do you hang out at the bar? Do you make eye-contact with strangers? Do you avoid them? Do you go up to someone who seems interesting and just talk? Do you even talk? Is there a certain drink you shouldn’t order? How do you even pay for a drink? Clubbing – a social game that’s a part of being human. And I am only human after all.

Love & E = mc²

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