I have been 25 for roughly two days, and so far, it's a drag.
My birthday was lovely. Dinner was lovely. Everyone I spent it with was very kind to me and loving and I have never felt more cared for.
Not in the romantic sense, or even the familial sense; but in this all encompassing sense that stems from not feeling I am doing anything with my life other than just getting by. Knowing another year has gone by and I feel like I have had to let go of so many dreams. I didn't even know what to wish for when I blew out my candles, so I made some vague and general wishes that seemed to be appropriate.
I may not believe in God, but I'm still not telling you my wishes, bitch.
I remember the first time I ever decided I wanted to be an actor. I grew up on Selena and Annie, always performing my little cabarets in front of the mirror in my basement. I was so obsessed with Annie that even when I was turned down for the role in my second grade play I sang her songs backstage with such gusto the kids HATED me for it. But fuck them, they were all assholes.
I also used to pretend I was an orphan and purposely wore tattered clothes, which simultaneously worried my parents and just confirmed my mistrust in Child Protective Services.
Now I'm 25, and wondering what to do. I have little dreams: wanting to participate in roller derby, traveling all over the world, owning several dogs. I then have bigger dreams: Giving an uplifting speech in front of a ton of people (real scientific terminology here), inspiring people to adopt not shop through my own means or a non-profit, and I'd love to receive an award for something. It doesn't have to be anything major, but I haven't received an award since I graduated High School and I miss the validation.
I'd like to be able to help my parents out when they're no longer able to work. I'd like to be completely independent.
I would like to wake up each morning without palpitations.
Who knows how many of these dreams I'll have to kill? I already have a lot of blood on my hands.