Seventeen

Seventeen years old.

I certainly am not getting any younger. No matter how much I try to backtrack and grab the chances I've missed in those last sixteen years, I know that couldn't. no matter how want to manipulate my yesterdays, I'm now stuck at at doing something for my coming tomorrows.

Truth is, I'm scared. No, terrified would be the proper term to describe what I feel as the realization of gaining another year slapped me hard on my ugly face. It terrifies me for a whole different reason; I definitely am not scared or even worried about seeing my skin sag. What scares me is the probability that even when my years age, I'd be stuck to where I am now with the little knowledge about everything.

I guess what most people fear about getting older goes beyond the fear of seeing rapid physical changes happen to them; it is the feeling of not being good enough for their age. I know this for sure because that is how I see myself now; positively scared about not matching up to what this age expects me to be.

You may sneer at that remark and think that I am overreacting, but believe it or not guys, this is more than just birthday blues. I deeply am anxious at the things I still can't do at age 17. I seem ignorant and incompetent compared to other people my age.

We all dream of being good enough to be able to achieve our aspirations on the years to come, but we almost put to line the significance of what we currently have in the present; the things and events currently laid in front of us.

I am saying this to myself more than to any of you who happened to stumble upon this blog, but yeah, I hope you got a thing or two from reading this birthday blue post. God I'm being paranoid at getting a year older.