A Slice of Life

Five seconds ago, I have just slammed my window on my ring finger. This culminated in an "Owwwwwwwwwwwwww" and resulted in a red, sore, throbbing finger which could no longer press guitar strings. There goes my plan to de-frustrate myself by spending time with my Little One (aka my guitar).

I'm constantly bruised nowadays. Literally. Blue and black all over. Perhaps I walk a little too recklessly fast at times. But that's the pace of my current slice of life. That being said, the other parts of me can't seem to catch up. It's the go-between phase of my life where I'm suffering from severe quarter-life crisis. I'm way over 21, but I don't think I'm looking like it, acting like it, feeling like it, or living like it. I don't fit the image of what you can imagine an "adult" to be. There's some missing X-factor when I relate with other "adults". This missing X-factor is probably something that means "the exact opposite of ignorance".

I get it. I'm intimidated by this adulthood because I've put myself in the same category as those in their 30s, 40s, 50s and 60s. I expect myself to be able to relate with them, and to be somewhat like them. But I'm not. The scale is tipped. I'm at this little end where I feel like a small kid in this scale of adulthood. I probably look married to those in primary school and secondary school because that world beyond the school is unimaginably huge and foreign. No little kid would imagine a legal adult above 21 to be feeling so small and inadequate at that slice of life, would they?

I don't discuss politics; I don't read the papers enough; I don't study the stock market; I don't even notice property market changes. I don't understand the laws that make me legally adult, I don't even have the drive to own a license and I haven't even gone near thinking about starting a family.

I'm still hanging at the edge of pre-adulthood, savoring the lingering bitter-sweet taste of the past as I wait for the time when I'd ripen and fall into the adult world.