I turned 23 today and I’d like to make it clear that I hate birthdays, especially my own. It’s a day that one gets recognized for no other reason than being ones self and still being alive. I also want to make it clear that I love getting recognition but I want to be recognized for an accomplishment, an achievement, or at the very least a job well done.
From what I’ve heard 23 is one of the most difficult years of ones life. A trip down the rabbit hole, a lost in translation world, or at the very least a limbo dream realm. I currently seem to have little direction, focus, or goals. A year from now I wonder what will I want, where will I want it, and who will I want it with.
Truth be told, I can’t stop the clock. I will never get any younger. Moving forward from today I’m going to keep my friends and family close. Those are what really matter in life. Having people around who I love and who love me is of the utmost importance. That being said, the best years of my life are still ahead of me.
My clock has ticked longer than Buddy’s, Terry’s, Sid’s and Nancy’s. All of whom, before 23, accomplished and were recognized for greatness in their own fields. That clock is still ticking, with every second that passes in which I fail to achieve successes is a second closer to the end and being forgotten.
My clock reads 23 years gone…