Ever since I was sixteen, I have been waiting for the day I turn eighteen. For me, it was a milestone: I would legally be an adult, and basically have the freedom I so very dearly long for.
Nearly two years later, as my birthday approaches, all I can think of is how I’ve spent the last seventeen years of my life.
As soon as August hit, I felt shell-shocked by the realization that I can’t remember anything in my life that might be deemed noteworthy. I have wasted my teenage years bitching and whining about every little thing, that I haven’t even stopped to look at where I was going. Stunned, I now realize that I am nearing adulthood yet I might still be the same immature, selfish brat I was back then.

Eighteen. *sigh* Why do I feel so old all of a sudden?
Anyway, to lighten the mood, I am posting eighteen things I want for my birthday:
  • Matthew Moore’s Rare Prints Ray Ban Wayfarers
  • A surprise party thrown by my mom
  • A small surprise, at least, by my friends. Even a chocolate or mango crunch cake would do. It’s the thought I’m after, not the food
  • Pass all my subjects’ prelims
  • Peter Angelo’s Coming Home painting inspired by The Little Prince
  • A 300-peso Fall Out Boy shirt from that shirt stall in SM Fairview
  • Anything Fall Out Boy, actually (especially Pete Wentz—mmm.)
  • A huge box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates
  • My mom to stop making such a big deal of me drinking
  • Anything Super Mario
  • The silver, razor blade charm bracelet from Bench
  • Completing my collection of Pugad Baboy comic books
  • A copy of Carrie by Stephen King, which is unavailable in a lot of bookstores—and believe me, I’ve checked
  • 20th Century American Architecture by Sydney Leblanc, a 575-peso, non-technical book on American architecture
  • A small, cute, preferably yellow car with rounded features. Not a Volkswagen, though—something in this generation, please.
  • Braces, while I’m still single because if I get a boyfriend, I wouldn’t know how to kiss with metal in my mouth.
  • A new pair of school shoes. Mine have braved the floodwaters of España, and they might be at the end of their life
  • Cute, unusual earrings
Yes, I am a greedy bitch.

2 thoughts on “Eighteen.

  1. Ack – I'm 26, and reading this makes me realize I turned 18 like, eight years ago :/ Wow. And also, I have a plushie version of Mario that my uncle won for me at an amusement park when I was a kid. It's awesome and old school!

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