The effects and changes of growing up are truly interesting.
I remember having written an embarrassing poem about being offended that I was
growing up, the only line that I recall being:
“ ‘Two years ‘til
you’re a teen!’ I know they aren’t just being mean...”
But anyway, opinions change, and now I’m not so opposed to
getting older. As long as it comes slowly. I’m sure it won’t, though. Some
changes seem so sudden and fast, you feel rather guilty, reminiscing with
nostalgic confusion the swift alteration of mind...
I also remember that my favourite number was always my age,
which my brother pointed out once. I said that no, 12 was not my favourite
number just because I was twelve (or something like that)... But it probably
was.
Another thing I remember was being very afraid of
teenagerdom, anxious that I might turn into a terrible, rebellious youth,
against my will. Thankfully, I’m pretty sure that I’m fairly safe, which I
credit to Jesus, fixing my eyes on Him.
Overall, growing up is a weird thing that apparently happens
to everyone. YOLO.
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